Tangled Strife
by Lyssa Terald
Summary: Lives from across the continent become entwined in the Blight. Pain that was forgotten is stirred anew and bitter pasts are untangled as those who become caught fight for the survival of not only those they love, but for every species and race that is sentient. Mostly canon compliant, introduction of new characters, multiple Origin Wardens, pairings will vary.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This fic is collaboration between myself and ****Aarlauna Rose****.**

**DISCLAIMER: We do not own anything related to Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Awakening or Dragon Age II. Bioware owns all. **

**Thank you, Lilliwyn! You're a brave beta to have taken on this monster. **

* * *

_Screams. They were everywhere. Huddled behind the body of one of the great beasts that her Master fought, her eyes shut tight against the horrifying visions around her; it was all that was left to her. She was tired of them. She was terrified of them. But the battle had barely begun, and her part was not over. _

_A whimper brought her from the brink of adding her voice to the dying. Slowly, Rose's eyes opened. There was a dragon near, a boy barely old enough to be called a man. Her hands dropped from her delicate pointed ears. He was covered in blood, barely alive. His mouth was moving, but all he could manage were disjointed sounds. Was he asking for help, or release? There was no way to know. _

_But he was a _dragon_, and that was all that mattered to Lucas, to the one who held her leash. He must die. Rose reached for her daggers with shaking hands. This could be Nadari, her friend. Her rescuer. He might know him. And her master was nowhere near. She could help him. _

_The realization got her on her feet far faster than the promise of a kill. The dragon's panicked face slackened into shock when she abandoned her weapons, reaching for her pouch instead. _

_Panic gripped her when she felt nothing. Her potions were gone. Her fingers instead closed on a small, cool vial reserved for the gravest of emergencies. She glanced at the boy, at the blood that was beginning to choke him. Swallowing her fear, she poured the liquid down her throat and put her hands on him. _

_The unfamiliar sight unnerved her, but she pushed through, reaching for a connection long-severed. If there was ever a time to will her mistakes away, it was now. But nothing happened. Rose cursed, shaking with the exertion. She was startled when she felt hot hands on her wrist. She looked up from her work. _

_The boy smiled sadly at her, face peaceful but sorrowful. He even looked thankful. Rose clenched her fists in his bloody shirt, fighting the urge to scream at him, at his fate. He shouldn't- couldn't- give up. He shouldn't thank her, not with her Master leading the charge against his people. Slowly, he weakly motioned for her to come closer, and she leaned down to hear what he had to say. _

_The boy's breath wheezed painfully in his throat as he gasped. She waited paitiently, only to pull back at his sudden raspy laugh._

_"It's your fault they died, blood mage." _

* * *

"Wake up, cousin!"

Rose woke abruptly, fighting off the tendrils of the Fade. Her cloudy eyes could barely discern the small woman standing at her bedside, an eager smile on her face. "Why are you still in bed? It's your big day, Rose!"

_Big… Oh. Oh, no._ Fear of a different sort made her want to run. Or vomit. Perhaps both. She groaned. "He's not supposed to be here for another week!" she grumbled.

"I know, but this can only be a good thing. I snuck a peek- he's handsome!"

"I… I don't like this, Shianni." she admitted.

The boisterous redhead sat on the edge of her cot, smiling encouragingly. "And who else are you going to marry? There's going to be music, decorations, feasting… Weddings are so much fun! And we're all so happy for you. Don't think we haven't noticed how lonely you are."

"Maybe _you_ should be the one getting married." Rose countered. There was supposed to be time before the hammer fell. She _had_ agreed when Cyrion asked, but it had been out of guilt, or obligation. He had looked so hopeful that she hadn't found the voice to oppose him.

"Maybe someday, but today is for you and Soris." she said sagely. Rose's glare only made her roll her eyes. "All right, I'll stop harassing you. I need to run some errands. Soris is waiting for you outside, so move it, will you? He looks likely to bolt."

Rose waited until she heard the front door close before reaching for her boots with a sigh. Today was going to be a bad day- but that might just be her own trepidation in wake of her sudden wedding. Cyrion was likely behind this, and she suspected that he might have even told her the wrong date on purpose. She glanced at the worn chest nearby. The hideous dress her father had chosen was little more than a glorified tunic, but he had chosen it with care, just as he'd likely chosen her groom, Nelaros. With that thought in mind, she pulled the gown on. Seeing her adoptive father's proud smile when she emerged did not lighten her mood.

"Ah, my little girl." he said fondly. She tried not to bristle at the endearment. "It's… the last day I'll be able to call you that."

"I haven't been a 'little girl' to anyone for a very long time." she said, trying not to be harsh.

Cyrion's smile did not falter. "I suppose that's true, but still…" He looked at her with appraising eyes. "You are our daughter, in everything but blood. I wish Adaia could have been here. Your mother would be so proud of you."

Rose hesitated. She had been fond of the woman, but to call her mother? The word was foreign to her. She sighed heavily. "Not if she knew how I felt about it."

"Still not pleased, I see." His smile finally faded. "Do you still have doubts?" That was so like him, always willing to hear what she had to say, even if he didn't like it. It was something she was unused to, to say the least. After three years with him, it was still a struggle to speak openly. His willingness to coax her emotions out softened her anger marginally.

"I… I don't see why I couldn't have chosen for myself, at least." Of all things, it was what she wanted, to have a say in the man who married her, who fathered her children. It had not been easy to give that choice to Cyrion, no matter how much she owed him.

He shook his head. This was an old argument. "Tradition, child. You must trust your elders." Her stubborn silence spoke volumes. "The dowry has been paid, the Chantry has issued the permit. All we need is you," he finished. "We have worked hard to make this a happy occasion."

"A dowry meant for another." She said, and regretted it the instant the saw the look on his face. It did not slow her words. "A day meant for a woman whose life I have stolen. I don't belong here, Cyrion. Even if you and Adaia wished it."

"Listen to me, Rose." he said. "I loved Adaia dearly. I was just as nervous as you. I almost went to find the Dalish. The Maker puts us on our path for a reason. I believe that we were meant to guide you, to help you move on. This is your life, child. You will be happy with Nelaros."

"There's more to life than getting married. I am most definitely _not_ a child, and I don't need a husband on my arm to prove it." She snapped.

Cyrion's face twisted into an expression that somewhat resembled pity. "That part of your life is over, daughter. It's time you allowed yourself to be happy." He took her hands in his, and the feel of them, warm and calloused from work, soothed her. "You must trust me in this. I believe from the bottom of my heart that this is what's best for you." Without waiting for her reply, he reached behind him to hand her a pair of boots. Rose felt her jaw drop in shock. She knew them. They had been painstakingly created by a woman whose hands were much more comfortable wielding a dagger than a needle. Adaia had refused to tell her what they were for. "She made them for you, a gift as you start your new life."

Rose traced one of the patterns reverently. "She _should_ have been here." Rose said softly, fighting to keep the tremor from her voice. She had almost demanded that Cyrion let her hunt the humans who had killed her, but she had been forbidden. They would have known who did it, and brought slaughter to the Alienage. The humans would take any excuse to butcher them. "You have both done so much for me. I- I'm sorry if I seem ungrateful."

Cyrion pulled her into a tight embrace. "I understand, child. I really do. I am here for you, always." With a last squeeze he shooed her away. "Now, go find your cousin. The sooner this wedding starts the less time you two have to plan a daring escape."

"A small chance is still a chance." Rose shot back, only half joking.

His laugh was still comforting as she left. She almost forgot the foreboding from earlier. Almost.

* * *

A few hours had passed, and all she and Soris had managed was to look thoroughly miserable. They sat on the roof of the house that Shianni and Soris shared, watching the others bustle about with preparations. Valendrian would have their heads for ignoring their matches for so long, but Rose found it hard to care what the old fool thought and Soris was loathe to meet them on his own. Of everyone in the Alienage, he was the only one that Rose could trust to understand her motivations. Her cousin was one of the few in Denerim who knew that she had no relation to Cyrion or Adaia. She was one of the few who knew that Soris had accidentally killed a human two years ago. They cleaned each other's messes and were therefore friends- an idea that was still taking some getting used to as far as Rose was concerned.

"So, I don't suppose you've had a stroke of brilliance during your attempt to glare the vhenedhal into cinders." He commented, gesturing towards the towering tree.

"About as much as you, pining after Taeodor like a lost puppy." She shot back. The poor fool had stopped her twice during her morning rounds, looking like someone had punched him in the stomach. When Rose had finally dragged Soris to him, the painfully awkward conversation about the Dalish had driven her to their current vantage point.

"I'm sure you have a reason to be upset, too." he said evenly, used to her barbs. "Why are _you_ so against this?"

He was met with silence. Soris was about to give up asking when she finally said, "I don't want to trade one set of shackles for another. Not again."

Soris opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a shout below.

"Let me go! Stop this, please!"

Crime was not uncommon in the Alienage, but it had dropped substantially in the last years. Most knew why. Those who didn't quickly learned that a certain red-haired girl considered this her turf. Soris had to scramble to catch up when Rose dropped from the roof, graceful as a cat.

The man in the center of the group laughed at the cowering girls. "Grab a whore and have a good time! Savor the hunt, boys." Rose was watching the human with a single-mindedness that Soris didn't like. He grabbed her arm before she could storm up to them.

"I know what you're thinking." He said softly, watching Shianni hold the trembling girl away from the humans. "But we shouldn't get involved. Not today."

The look she gave him was meant to be poisonous, and based on his reaction, she'd succeeded. Looking at the humans, lost to their 'sport', all she could think of was a young elven boy, cowering at the feet of his master. His hair was matted and bloody, his feet torn to shreds, his skin lacerated- but he could not, would not, speak for himself. She had been equally bound by their master's words. Soris was looking at her as if he could see her hate manifesting before his eyes. "Objection noted." She said coldly. "Now get the hell out of my way."

He barely had time to step aside as she stormed up to the group. "What's this?" one of the humans sneered. His fine clothes marked him as one of the nobility of Denerim. If there was anything that could have made Rose like him less, that was it. "Another lovely come to keep me company?"

"More like the one who's going to enjoy tearing your eyes out if you insist on acting like dogs in heat."

She heard Soris groan behind her. The human dropped his smug air and stepped closer to her. The height difference did nothing to impress Rose- she'd fought things that this soft noble couldn't have dreamed up in his worst nightmares. "Do you know who I _am_, knife-ear?" he growled. "My father-"

"I don't care who you are, and I don't give a rat's ass what sort of entitlement you think you have." Her hands itched for her knives, but she had been forbidden to carry them today. Looking at them, she decided she'd have a fair shot at winning unarmed. "You're intruding on a private celebration and you need to leave-" she grinned as Shianni snuck up behind him. "-before someone gets hurt." she finished.

He opened his mouth to speak just as the vase shattered over his head. The crowd that had gathered gasped. One of the remaining humans pulled the barely-conscious man up and led him away. The last turned on Rose and Shianni. "Are you insane? That's Lord Vaughan, the Arl's son!"

"This will go badly for you knife-ears." The other noble didn't even have the nerve to glance behind him as he made a quick getaway with Vaughan.

The remnants of the vase fell from Shianni's fingers. "Oh, I really messed up this time."

Rose wrapped her arm around her. Soris joined her. "It'll be alright. He won't tell anyone an elven woman took him down." He comforted.

"I hope you're right." Rose sent her home to get cleaned up, along with the other girl that had been harassed. "Is everyone else all right?" she gave the two remaining elves a cursory glance. The woman was petite, which was saying something considering her race. Her huge eyes made her look even more vulnerable, and Rose had a sudden sinking feeling that she knew _exactly_ who this was, and the man beside her.

"Just a little shaken." she said softly.

"Um, hello. Again." Soris looked decidedly uncomfortable as he turned to look at the pair. "Rose, this is Velora, my betrothed. And _that_ is Nelaros."

"A pleasure. Soris said… much of you. Some of it was even positive." Rose had never felt more childish. She hated him. Hated his good looks, his warm voice, and hated the natural if anxious smile he wore. It took great effort to not cross her arms stubbornly and glare.

"Good man." she mumbled to no one.

"Hey, I just wanted to give you a sporting chance to run!" Soris cleared his throat after getting a good look at her. "You might still want to."

Nelaros looked behind him where the humans had stood moments before. "On the contrary, it's comforting to know that my betrothed knows how to stand up for herself."

A rather unlady-like snort ruined the moment. "Ah, well. Come on, cousin. We should let them get ready…?" Soris prodded. Rose could have hugged him just then.

"Well, we'll see you two in a bit." Valora said, looking disappointed. "Don't disappear on us."

To her horror, Nelaros hesitated. It was her shock alone that allowed him to lean forward and kiss her on the cheek. "I know you don't want this, but… I promise. I'll spend every waking moment learning to make you happy." Valora grabbed his arm and led him away with a hint of panic to her quick stride.

"Well." Her cousin tried unsuccessfully not to laugh at Rose's expression. "That was interesting."

"Shut it. This is a nightmare. _Please_ tell me this is all a bad dream."

"Don't look now, but we have another problem."

"Anything to put the wedding off for a while." Rose followed his gesture to the street across the square. Behind the crowd she could make out a human, dressed in fine armor. That insignia looked vaguely familiar…

"Could be one of Vaughn's."

Considering his stance, how he gave the elves a respectful distance, his proud demeanor… she thought not. Someone like that would sooner see the disgusting man on a spit. "Let's go talk to him."

She was already moving, fascinated by his civility, when she heard Soris follow. "Let's try not to incite a riot." It was more of a plea. Soris was _really_ underestimating her. It wasn't like her preference to stab first and negotiate later was a real problem, here. Right?

* * *

"Maker keep us, Maker protect us. Maker keep us, Maker protect us."

Rose jerked upright with a sharp breath. Shianni grabbed her shoulders, steadying her while the room gradually stopped spinning. Rose reached for her head, fingering the large knot behind her ear. What was with her and head wounds? They always went for the head, not the knee or the stomach or- Ugh. What did it matter? She needed to figure out what was going on. The rogue took in the panicked faces surrounding her and thought back to the ceremony. Lord Vaughan had returned, lackeys and a small troupe of guards in tow, wearing his wounded pride like a trophy. It stung that no one had lifted a finger to stop him- but what else could she expect? These city elves were so docile. Where Rose or any Dalish would have fought to their last breath, they simply stood aside and hoped for the best.

"Maker keep us, Maker protect us. Maker keep us, Maker protect us."

"Is everyone all right?"

"We're scared but unharmed- so far. They locked us in here until that..." Sweet little Valora seemed to be going through a multitude of possible adjectives in her mind. "...bastard is ready for us." Rose couldn't help but feel a bit of pride. Maybe this one wasn't such a mouse after all.

Shianni glanced at the door. "We can't just let them do what they want to us. We need to get out of here. We need a plan."

There was a reason that Rose had always liked her, and she was beginning to regret her decision to keep the elf at arm's length. She was spirited and capable- but also kept asking questions that Rose had no desire to provide answers for. But Rose _did_ have a plan- and a simple one at that. "We kill the first human that opens the door."

Tania, one of the few dark-skinned girls in the alienage, spoke up. "We're five unarmed women," she objected. "What makes you think we can kill anyone?"

"Because I'm here, that's why. I don't expect any of _you_ to fight." Rose managed to get to her feet with her cousin's support. "I'm not going down easy. I'm _not_ going down like this."

"Maker keep us, Maker protect us. Maker keep us, Maker protect us."

"Look, we'll do what they want, go home and try to forget this ever happened."

"Tania's right. It'll be worse if we resist." Rose glared at Valora. The Mouse returns. Creators, she wished that Nola would shut up-

"It'll be worse if we don't!" Shianni barked.

The tension in the room was rising, panic and fear and frustration making the air difficult to breathe. They were at an impasse, and Rose tried to think of a way to get the meek ones to cooperate.

"Someone's coming!"

Rose instantly went to the front of the three girls, leaving only Nola, kneeling in prayer, before her. "Be quiet," she ordered. "Don't do anything until I say."

Five guards sauntered into the room, leering at the girls. "Hello, wenches. We're your escorts to Lord Vaughan's little party." The captain frowned when Nola rose, her tone frantic.

"Stay away from us!" Deaf to her pleas, he drew his sword and sliced her chest open with one movement. The others gasped. Rose heard Tania begin to sob helplessly.

"I suppose that's what happens when you try teaching whores some respect." Rose took several deep breaths as he sheathed his sword. She was trying to remind herself that she couldn't win, not unarmed. The captain gestured towards Tania. "Now, you grab the little flower cowering in the corner; Horace and I will take the homely bride and the drunk. You two, bind the last one. She's the scrapper." Rose's heart skipped a beat, but Shianni shook her head before she could try to intervene. As much as she hated it, her cousin was right. They were all nothing to these men- it was better to wait for a better opportunity to strike. Still, seeing them led off to Creators knew what fate, a familiar fear began to creep into her conciousness- she would fail them. Once again, she would be too late.

"Don't worry, we'll be perfect gentlemen." Rose gave the guards her attention. There was no use worrying about the others if she didn't make it out of this room.

"Now, you heard the captain. Be a good little wench or you'll end up like your friend there."

"Try it. See what parts you lose first." The leg below the knee, maybe. That would make it damn hard to fight back.

Despite her bold words, Rose stepped back when they advanced. She could beat them, perhaps, if she could get a weapon. After everything she'd lived through, surely she could disarm a couple of filthy shem-

"Uh... hello?" The guards turned, more than a little shocked to see Soris, looking smaller than usual holding a longsword awkwardly in his hands. He glanced around nervously as they demanded to know where he'd gotten the weapon. Rose's joy was doubled when they locked eyes, and he nodded. Her smile was primal as the sword slid across the stone to stop at her feet. The guards turned again, their faces filled with fear.

"Oh, sod," the first one cursed. Rose and Soris made quick work of the two- she had thought him unarmed until he produced a heavy crossbow. It had been a long time- nearly three years- since Rose had spilled blood without reservation. It was invigorating to put muscles to use that had been long idle, to recall techniques and skills that were specific to her training. When the last one fell, her cousin rushed to her side.

"I can't believe they killed her. Are you all right? They didn't hurt you, did they?"

It took a moment to pull herself from the kills, to focus on the anxious elf beside her. He was horrified, looking at the blood-soaked floor. Rose swallowed the words that first rose to her lips. "Nothing rattles me. You know that." It was only for Soris' sake that she measured her words. She had never been one to make or keep friends.

"Thank the Maker. Hopefully we can still save the others."

The others. Shianni, Tania and Valora. She forced herself to focus. They were the only ones who could help them- the humans certainly didn't care about them. "What do we have to work with?"

"That Gray Warden, Duncan, gave Nelaros and me his sword and crossbow. But that's all-"

Rose gaped. "Nelaros is here?"

The look he gave her was somewhere between annoyed and anxious. "Yes, he's the reason we're here. He lost it on the others who wanted to 'hope for the best'. I- I didn't know what to do, Rose. I'm sorry."

Perhaps she'd been wrong about her groom. She had certainly never expected him to stand up to humans- to armed guards, specifically. He was a city elf. It wasn't in their nature. Rose embraced her cousin. "You're here now, Soris. That's what matters. If you'd tried, you'd be dead."

The stiffness of his body revealed just how shocked he was by this sudden affection, but he hugged her back nonetheless. After an awkward moment, he released her and said, "Nelaros is guarding the end of the hall. Let's figure this out with him."

Unfortunately, their luck seemed to have run out. First there was the cook. They had unexpected help from one the kitchen staff, who delivered a very helpful blow to the cook's head. Rose had asked him for help, but he'd scurried off. Just as well- she and Soris would likely be hanged for this, and she didn't want anyone else to go down with them. She would not let Vaughan go unpunished.

Then they stumbled into the mess hall- one of the few rooms that was almost never empty. For all the rows of tables, luck had provided them with only a half-dozen guards. They froze just outside the kitchen. As one, three of the humans stood and approached them. "Where did you get a weapon, elf?" Rose's usually clever tongue seemed to have run out of bright ideas.

"Better talk quick, scum."

Rose swallowed, her mind racing. "I was... er- he was-" she sighed. "Oh, sod it." With a flash of silver one of the guards fell to the floor, blood rapidly spreading across his chest. The others reacted instantly. Her only hope was that the ale they'd been chugging would slow them down.

She ducked under the guard's sword and brought her blade across his unarmored shins. He screamed and went down. It was a moment's work to stab him through the heart. Rose jerked her sword from him, hating the awkward feel of the weapon. She worked with daggers for a reason. A cry brought her attention to Soris. Two guards flanked him, taking advantage of his ranged weapon. Rose crept up and drew her blade across one's throat while Soris' arrow went through the other's eye.

They put their backs to the wall, ready for the others, but the room was empty. Rose didn't want to consider where they'd gone. "Let's go." She wiped her blade on her thigh, heedless of the wedding gown. She doubted she'd get the chance to go through with the ceremony, anyway.

Soris stayed close, content to let her lead. They cut their way through a half dozen guards. Rose picked the corpses clean out of habit. Why waste a good opportunity? By the time they reached the end of the hall, she had a few coppers, a dagger and some half-haphazardly strapped leather armor. Soris only took the time to put on a leather helm.

"Almost there," Soris said breathlessly. "Nelaros is in that room-"

Rose's heart leapt into her throat once she realized what had happened. Soris nearly ran into her when she stopped. Nelaros' body slid off the captain's blade and crumpled. He never even had a chance to react. She was frozen, her eyes locked on the man she was supposed to marry.

"See? I told you there'd be more. Elves run in packs- like rodents."

"Should we keep the knife-eared bitch alive?" Horace asked, eying her.

Nelaros had come to save her. The only one in the alienage who had the courage to do the right thing, and he was dead. For a moment, despair threatened to crush her. Rose had run so far, tried so hard to be normal. She had left the bloodshed and death behind her. This was supposed to be the day she moved on, the day she started her new life as just _Rose_. Her eyes went to the captain. She held her weapons with a steel grip. Perhaps this was how it had to be. Perhaps it was her fate to deal death.

If so, then the Creators had given her a perfect target to test her theory on.

"They killed our boys. She dies."

Rose wiped her blade on her tunic again, never breaking her icy glare. She smiled sweetly at him. A sort of wild giddiness was bubbling up inside her. "I am going to enjoy this," she crooned.

"Stupid wench. I'll show you how men fight." Rose simply continued to smile. Their dance was brief, but heated. He moved first, angling his strike for her sword arm. She stepped closer to him, knocking him back with a swift punch to the nose. Her knee came up between his legs and she punched him again for good measure. The captain dropped his sword, falling to his knees. The others finally sprang into action. One cried out as Soris' arrow hit home. The other managed to pierce her side shallowly with his dagger. A swift twirl saved her life.

There was a perfect opportunity for her to sever the captain's spine, but she ignored it. He would suffer. She did lean forward over the recovering captain and slice open one of the guards' chest over his head. He staggered back towards Soris, who fired an arrow that passed right through him. The projectile whizzed past her ear, spattering her with blood. The captain took advantage of her distraction and elbowed her, taking the chance to stagger to his feet. He lurched towards the door, seeking an escape as she slowly paced after him, dagger in hand and poised for the kill. "You know nothing," she spat. "You are ignorant and cruel. All shem are. You don't deserve an easy fate."

"Rose," Soris cautioned. She ignored him. "Cousin. We need to help the others. We don't have time for this." Rose had been forced into the mold of normalcy for too long. She wanted nothing more than to make this man suffer- but Soris was right. She nodded reluctantly. The girls were more important than this slime. Without warning, she stepped over Nelaros' corpse and ran the captain through without warning. Blood gurgled from his mouth and his eyes bulged. Rose twisted the blade for good measure before she let him fall.

Soris knelt beside her betrothed. "Nelaros. I'm... so sorry."

She was silent as she regarded her former fiancé. He had proved a much better man than she had given him credit for- and she _would_ have resented him, for as long as her stubborness lasted. It was suddenly clear to her _why_ she had been so determined to push him away. If Nelaros had been mean, prideful, ugly or even a coward, Rose could have fought the fate Cyrion wished on her. The more she learned about Nelaros, the more certain she was that falling into a simple life would have been easy, with him. He had never deserved her bitterness.

Her cousin opened one of Nelaros' pouches and held a small item out to her. It was a ring, of simple make but well crafted. The gold was inlaid with a simple filigree. Her wedding ring. Rose placed it on her finger, throat sore with tears she'd never admit were there. Such a gesture almost seemed worthless, but she vowed she'd never forget his sacrifice.

"Come," she cleared her throat before the tears could choke her. "Let's find the others and leave this place." Soris gave her a long, searching look.

All he said was, "Of course."

It wasn't far to Vaughan's quarters, and they met little resistance. But they were still too late- it was obvious from the moment they entered. Rose's stomach lurched as she took in Shianni's tear-streaked face, her torn dress and the human's shameless panting. When the door slammed behind her he rose slowly, taking time to pull up his trousers. His lackeys pulled Shianni to her feet and held her. Rose barely noticed when she passed the point of caution and rational thought. The calm before the storm, she'd heard it called. Her master had used it often in his training.

"My my, what have we here?" She wanted to slice his face so badly no one could even find a trace of the lips that made that sanctimonious smirk-

"Don't worry," Lord Jonaley said, drawing his sword and passing Shianni to the other man. "We'll make short work of these two."

But the arl's son had paused, taken those moments to really _look _at the intruders. For the first time, he looked like he believed the promise of death in her stance. "Quiet, you idiot!" he snapped. "They're covered with enough blood to fill a tub. What do you think that means?"

"It means you're going to die."

"A-All right. Let's not be too hasty here," Vaughan took a step back. "Surely we can talk this over."

"You really think you can talk your way out of this?" Soris asked, incredulous.

Rose took a step forward. "You filthy shem, you _nobles_, are all alike. Take what you want and leave the defenseless and downtrodden to the wolves. You will not walk away alive, human. You will pay in blood for what you've done."

A sob broke her from her advancement. Her eyes went to Shianni. "Please," she begged. "Just get me out of here. I want to go home." The sight of her, pale and trembling, only intensified the keen loss she felt.

"I would never leave you, Shianni." she said softly, her heart in her words.

"Think for a minute!" the noble cut in quickly. "Kill me, and you ruin more lives than just your own. By dawn the city will run red with elven blood. You know how this ends." He gained confidence at her hesitation. He knew he was right. "Or- we could talk this through... now that you have my undivided attention."

That slimy, spineless ass- "If you have something to say, say it."

That suave smile snapped right back into place. "Here's our situation. You are skilled, obviously. We fight here, perhaps you could even manage to kill us. You take my offer- forty sovereigns- and leave Denerim tonight. No repercussions, and you can go wherever you like. Just leave us to our... fun."

Rose couldn't believe what she was hearing. She gaped at him, couldn't believe his gall. But then she saw Shianni again, and suddenly her tongue was frozen. It was the war all over again, her the catalyst, the only thing between life and slaughter. The situation was so similar that she was suddenly gone, wrapped in memories.

_I knew you couldn't resist. You always were too weak. Your former master should have beaten it out of you. _

_Don't hurt her, Master. Please. She didn't know anything-_

_You should know better than anyone, Rose. You can't lie to me. _

"Rose."

_Make your choice. I know your dragon is out there, waiting for you to betray me. What will it be?_

"Rose!"

Then the vision was gone, leaving her with silence and determination. "You expect me to take your filthy gold and leave my family to your abuses?" she growled. "You really think me so low as to abandon these women for the sake of a handful of worthless metal?" Rose drew the dagger taken from Nelaros' body. The hilt, like Duncan's sword, was inlaid with the Gray Warden insignia. She found herself hoping something of the man's strength remained in the blade, to help her strike true. "All I want form you, shem, is your head."

"Bah!" He took his sword from Jonaley. "I always regret talking to knife-ears! Now I'll just gut your ignorant carcasses, instead!"

Rose had heard enough. Time to shut him up for good. She lunged and swept her weapons in an arc, forcing him back. He was fast, and she only managed a shallow cut. Lord Braden took the chance to strike at her exposed side. The sword sliced across her previous wound, making her drop her own sword with a cry. Shianni echoed her, crawling towards the wall. Cold metal tore into her shoulder. Rose whipped around and struck Braden's arm with her dagger. There was a clatter as she tore Braden's weapon out and threw it across the room.

Soris managed to hit him in the thigh. There was a clang as Jonaley went at him, forcing him into close combat. Rose backed away from Vaughan and Braden, breathing shallowly. She waited for them to make the first move. She parried Braden easily. His gut suggested he'd spent more time feasting than training. She was not so lucky with Vaughan. He knew she was crippled and knew exactly how to exploit it. He twisted around her, and she was forced to turn in almost a full circle to spare herself pain. He easily knocked her off balance and pinned her to the ground. Rose thought she was done for. She was choking on her own blood, preparing for the blow. Then she saw the glint of metal protruding through the young lord's chest. They both stared at it disbelievingly for a few seconds before Soris pulled the crossbow free.

There was still Jonaley to deal with, and Rose noted with apprehension that her cousin had run out of bolts. The young lord had recovered from Soris' last assault. Fueled by fear, he managed to pull the crossbow away from Soris and throw it straight at her. Rose turned quickly, but it still dealt a glancing blow. It took precious time for her to regain herself. Once the room stopped spinning, she retrieved Duncan's sword, just by Shianni's feet.

A single well-timed strike, and he fell. Rose allowed herself a small pang of regret that Soris had stolen Vaughan's life, but no more. There was nothing to be done about it. She went to Shianni.

"He... He's dead. Tell me we did the right thing, Cousin." Soris' voice trembled.

"It's a little late for regrets." she shot back, checking Shianni for other injuries.

"I'm not regretting it," he said defensively. "It's just... never mind. I'll check the back room for the others."

Once satisfied that Shianni had no further wounds, Rose reached out and gently took her hand. She was intimately familiar with how she must be feeling, the pain and the terror and the shame. Rose found herself at a loss for words and instead wrapped her arms around the girl.

"D-Don't leave me alone... please. Please take me home."

"Yes. Let's go home." Rose knew that the worst of it had yet to hit Shianni. It was too soon. It was the shock. She took a deep breath. She had her own demons to deal with today. Only once she saw Shianni safely home would she think about it, about the inevitable consequences. Rose had to be strong a little longer, for this woman's sake. Just a little longer.

"So much blood. I... I can't stand to look at it. It's everywhere." She looked at Rose imploringly, her expression one of fear and awe. "You killed them, didn't you? You killed them all."

It took her a few tries to speak. "Like dogs, Shianni."

"Good," she said with a hint of her old fierceness. "Good."

The others entered the room just as Rose helped her cousin to her feet. Valora rushed over. "Is she going to be all right?"

Rose shot her a look. "Would you be?"

Valora took no offense to her tone. "Shianni's strong," she said confidently. "She'll recover."

"Er, we should go. Soon. As in now." Soris cut in before Rose could reply. Without waiting for her to respond, he retrieved his weapon. "I'll take the rear guard. I can't wait to leave this place."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to Lilliwyn and Fruitboxen for their work! **

* * *

Rose had done the right thing. There was no doubt about that. Even Shianni, after her ordeal, had made a point to commended her for taking all the blame. Why, then, did she feel so horrible about leaving all of them behind? The logical part of her said it was fear. The Arl would not let his son's death go- and as long as Rose was gone, following the path Duncan had given her, she could not protect them from the wrath of the human shem.

Then, there was sentiment. Rose had learned long ago that such feelings only got in the way- not that it helped her ignore them any. She filled her head with thoughts of other things, the strange man who she traveled with, techniques long-forsaken she must now relearn... She flexed her fingers, and the cold ring she'd taken from Nelaros only brought her thoughts back to the alienage once more.

"So, what do you look for in a mage recruit, exactly?" She asked the Warden-Commander. Rose had been making a point of giving him her silence, but right now anything was better than thinking.

The Warden-Commander glanced side-long at her, his steps never slowing or faltering on the stone of the Imperial Highway. "Skill and dedication," he answered.

Rose huffed. Well, that wasn't enigmatic. "Obviously. But haven't most of them grown up coddled or beaten down? How do you pick out the ones with any promise?"

"Background and age matters little to the darkspawn. A Warden must be willing to sacrifice everything," he said.

That wasn't what she'd been asking, but she let it go. "How long will we be at the tow-" Rose paused. Stupid, so so stupid. What was she thinking? The elf froze. "Er, how long will we be actually in the tower?" It had never occurred to her until that moment that she and Duncan would be inside the Tower. Surrounded by Templars. Watched. Caged.

"No more than three days," he supplied. "The First Enchanter indicated that the mage in question would be completing her Harrowing soon."

"The Harrowing?" Rose managed to forget her unease for a moment. Tevinter didn't have a test, really. As long as no one went on a rampage through the streets, the Imperial Chantry let well enough alone. The attitude towards magic was so different here. So different, in fact, that Rose had quite a shock adjusting to it. Going from Magisters who were feared and respected to helpless waifs locked in towers was not something she'd expected after her escape.

As closely as he had been watching her, he saw the sharpening of her focus, the almost intense interest she belied within those two words. Not quite the reaction he had been expecting. "Yes, it is the test by which apprentices become mages. Beyond that, I've little knowledge of what it entails and most of it is guess work."

It was clear that the Chantry had a much stronger hold here in Ferelden. The Templars of Tevinter were simply symbols, something to placate the 'White Divine'. Here, their authority was real. Their talents were meant to be used. She put all her focus into keeping her feet firmly on the ground. Words failed her. What excuse should she give him? If she went in there... Some said their senses were sharp, almost preternatural. She had no desire to test that rumor.

Duncan studied her for a long moment with a sideways look. "You fear them, then," he stated, stepping across a small pothole traffic had long since worn into the road.

"What?" she forced herself to follow him. Her feet felt heavy.

Duncan turned his gaze to the tower that loomed in the distance and almost sighed. Of course she would be afraid of them. "Mages are very useful to the Wardens, but hard to entice into our ranks. I understand that it is the way of the normal folk to be cautious of them, but I would ask that you at least be polite to the First Enchanter and his Senior staff as it was he who contacted me. It would appear ungrateful of the Wardens if one recruit antagonized another."

Rose would have laughed, if she dared. Of course he would think that. She opened her mouth to speak, but caught herself. Perhaps it was better he think her one of the shallow-minded fools who cowered under the threat of things unknown. "I was born in Tevinter," she said instead. "The Magisters don't exactly leave a stellar impression on those who serve them."

There was a pause in which Duncan simply looked at her. "Those born to Tevinter are not well known for their tolerance, either. You'll have to overcome the prejudices your birth country may or may not have instilled in you if you are to work well with the other Wardens in combat. We come from all walks of life, including Templar duties."

"Combat doesn't matter," Rose said sharply. "I can fight with whoever I have to. That doesn't mean that I'm eager to rush into a place where they look at you sideways for sneezing."

"Then why are you still here?"

She ran the words through her head twice, but they still didn't sink in. "What?" Oh, wasn't she sounding brilliant? But no matter how Rose tried to twist her mind around his question, it didn't make sense. She stopped in the middle of the road. The tower was very, very close now, looming above them.

"I need recruits that are willing to adapt to new situations. You are out of Denerim and everything you have said and done indicates that you are reluctant to be here at all. It would not be the first time that a Conscripted recruit has gone missing that I would not have pursued," he said carefully. Really, he did feel her skills would be valuable, but he didn't need someone with no will to commit.

"I don't understand. You would just... let me go?" she stammered, dumbfounded. Wasn't the point of Conscription that you couldn't get out of it?

"Do not misunderstand me, Rose. I believe you would be a very valuable edition to the Wardens, but I need those that are willing to fight without reserve and to dedicate everything they are to eradicating the darkspawn and the Archdemon. If you are unwilling, then yes, I am willing to settle for the Conscription of the mage," he said, features impassive as always.

This felt like a trap. It had to be one. Rose was reminded of her Master's poisonous smile, the one that she knew never to trust. No one just let someone go like that, not when there was something to be gained. She studied his expression. It couldn't be. He was serious. Rose glanced towards the sloping hills to the east. He might let her leave, but where would she go? Back to Denerim, to be executed? To Marethari's clan, assuming she wouldn't be killed on sight? So, it was a trick. Offer her freedom, a shining illusion. Should she have expected better from a shem? Rose could feel her features relaxing, adopting the veneer of calm that all smart slaves learned, eventually. "I have nowhere else to go," she said cooly. "And I keep my vows, Duncan. I know who the Wardens are. I know that I should be honored you conscripted me. I will serve the Wardens- but I will not be told what to believe."

He finally paused in his steps and turned his head to look straight at her. "I am not telling you to convert to the ways of the Maker or to even worship the old gods of the Elven. What I demand of _all_ my recruits, human or otherwise, is obedience and the ability to fight together flawlessly where I command them to. If you are unable to do that, then you put all of their lives at risk and _that_ is not something that I tolerate. No matter how skilled you seem, you are a single fighter and not worth the lives you would cost if you are unable to look beyond yourself."

"What am I to you, beyond a tool? A weapon?" She reflected dimly that she was suddenly standing on the opposite side of the discussion. Why by the Creators was she defending her right to stay with him? Was she mad? "I can fight. I can follow orders. I will. My beliefs have nothing to do with that. I have done many,many things I did not believe in, because I was ordered to. You have no need to suspect me on that front."

There was only the slightest of pauses before he said, "As a Warden, you _will_ be expected to _not_ antagonize your fellows past a certain point. Provoking them into drawing arms is strictly forbidden and holding grudges against someone based on background or age is not allowed. If you are unable to work with those here, I have every right to send you to another sect of Wardens where you would undergo rigourous retraining and integration into a new unit. I...do not prefer the methods of those abroad, but the only other choice would be death as it is damn near impossible to defect."

Rose's eyes narrowed. "Unlike some, I can keep my opinions to myself, Warden-Commander. I'm not running from a bunch of metal-clad men in skirts, or their charges."

He held her gaze, his dark eyes flinty. "In that case, if you are willing to stay put, then there is an Inn called the Spoiled Princess where I might purchase a room for three days and leave you there," he said.

Rose considered the offer, and decided that even if it was a challenge, she wasn't rising to it. "Fine. I'll be waiting there."

With a final, searching look, he turned from her and continued walking. There were no words left to say and nothing save time that would show who was right or wrong.

* * *

Cold wind biting at fragile skin, distorting vision. Green and grey, black and red pressing in. Howling screams, pleas. It burns and caresses, rips and heals. Heat stolen, life leeched, shackles slapped on, claws raked against face.

Light and sound muted. Held within the forever of nothing, protected and restrained. A promise once made, now forgotten. Stumble onto the battlefield, see the corpses of thousands. Friends, family, comrades, lover. Dead, all dead. Blood staining her hands, suppression of the tears. Force the transformation back. Magic flowing out bit by bit, human form returns to love.

_Rina._

A brush against her. Ignored. Not important. Continue on with the burials. Sort through the limbs, try to reattach those that are recognized. Continue on, continue on, continue on until fingers bleed and magic dries.

_**Rina**__._

More insistent and forceful, the voice, _his voice,_ shattered the Fade dream and she was left staring at her hands and the corpse of a demon. She blinked slowly, recalling what had happened. There had been a demon…and a mouse, and a Spirit of Valor. Mouse had been a demon of Pride. They had fought a demon of Rage together and he had…tried to convince her to let him possess her…she had refused and Mouse had…tried to…get away and she didn't let him go. A battle presented itself to her, as painful and fresh as the dream had been. Eyeing the corpse fading into the ground before her, she shook her head. Mouse hadn't been the brightest demon of Pride ever and he had been pathetically weak in comparison to some of the others she had seen across her cumulative time in the Fade.

The Fade. That thought jarred her out of her shock and she looked around. She was still in the Fade, still sitting in the battleground where her "harrowing" had taken place. Why the Mages of the tower thought such a test made them "mages" she would never understand. The people who possessed magic were mages by birth while those without it were not.

"Rina," a familiar, masculine voice said. She looked around, feeling a mixture of hope and despair. Jeremy stood five feet away from her, brown-haired and green-eyed as ever. Eyeing her, gaze wary, he took in her appearance. "You have an interesting way of gaining my attention," he said by way of impasse.

She surged to her feet and barely stopped herself from jumping into his arms and holding on until he was her only reality again. The Fade, she remembered, was all about desires and what could never be. The only thing that was real in the here and now that she could be sure of was only herself and her perception of what was. So if she had wanted to see him and he was part of the Fade now, perhaps it only made sense that she could have called him from the depths of Fade Sleep that his race entered upon their deaths.

"It…wasn't intentional," she managed to choke out, reaching for him. "Are…does this mean that I was wrong? That this was all just a nightmare?"

He took her hand and smiled sadly at her, shaking his head. "I know what you desire," he said softly. "I know how you wish to join us here as you could not that day when we died, but it isn't time. You still have a lifetime ahead of you to fall in love again and move past the memories of what was."

Frustration filled her. Memories of the battle, of the deaths, of the Lanashe they had fought so long ago broke the damn. "I don't _want _to move on, Jeremy," she said, taking a step closer. "I _want _the life that was supposed to be ours, the one that we discussed at camp and talked about in the quiet moments when our enemies weren't plotting to kill everyone we ever loved. How can I just give it all up and move past what _was? _We could…we could…still have that here in the Fade. We can shape it to our wills and…and…"

"I want that, more than you could ever know," he admitted, encircling her in his arms and tucking her head beneath his chin. "I wanted that life more than I wanted to free my race from the threat of the Lanashe, more than I even wanted freedom. The time we had was too brief, too short. I _do_ want more…" his voice trailed off as he was caught up in thought. She looked up at him, hope beginning to spring in her chest. "…but that is a path that can never be. I died three years ago, Rina, and I cannot return to the realm of the living without a host." His arms tightened around her briefly and he stepped back. "Mortals only visit this plane for a short time. They are not meant to live here forever. To leave this place without a host would mean embracing the ways of a demon and I…"

Rina threw her arms around him again and pulled him to her, her lips crashing against his to silence the words, the painful truth. All she wanted, all she knew was contained within the space of heat and scent and arms tight around, but it wasn't hers, not the way she wanted it to be. She choked on the tears, feeling the familiar pull of reality, the fading of the lyrium. "Don't…just…don't," she whispered, breaking away a fraction. "I know all of that, but… I… can't stop loving you. I don't want to. You are my everything, even in death. I... I love you, Jeremy."

Pain flashed though his green eyes. He cupped her cheek and she leaned into his touch. His lips parted as he drew breath to speak again, but a sea of darkness rolled over her, dissolving the Fade, pulling her back. She screamed, but it was swallowed by the blackness, lost as Jeremy was to her. Descending down and down to a body and a life she had ceased to want, she was sucked back into the confines of sleep and left there in the darkness and the loneliness of time.

Above her, a single mage fussed with her blankets and the pillow to make sure she was as comfortable as possible after the Harrowing. A hand passed over her cheek, a proud smile touching her lips. Another apprentice seen through the trials of learning, alive and fully in control of her powers. The mage departed, never seeing the tears that glistened in the candlelight.

* * *

Rina woke to the familiar sweeping pillars, vaulted ceiling, and barred windows of the dormitories that all female apprentices shared. It was a male's voice that tugged at her and brought her out of the haze that time in the Fade produced. Jeremy? But no…he had died three years ago. There was no leaving the Fade without a host once the physical body died; only demons did that…on purpose.

"...right? Say something, please," he said, carefully keeping out of arms reach.

She passed a hand over her face and sat up, stuffing the sheets in her other hand while she looked around at the other brightly robed apprentices and bunk beds that surrounded them. "Jowan?" she asked the young man before her, still eyeing him critically.

Relief flooded his face as she carefully swung her feet to the side of the bed and stood up, stumbling and a little off balance. "Oh, I'm glad you're alright," he said. He looked like he wanted to hug her, but knew better than to try and touch her. "They carried you in this morning. I didn't even realize that you had been gone at all. I've heard of apprentices who simply disappear and are never heard from again. Is it really that dangerous? What was it like?"

A smile touched her lips at the puppy-like enthusiasm he was displaying. The Harrowing was almost the crowning jewel in every apprentice's life and to question a newly "harrowed" mage was a rare chance that they never passed up. It was, it seemed, her turn to be pestered with questions. "It was…harrowing. A test of abilities where you must prove your skill against a demon and temptation in the Fade."

He visibly paled at the idea of having to enter the Fade, but he nodded. "That…that makes sense," he said slowly, then crossed his arms in a sudden change of temper. "Hmf…well, now you get to move to the nice mage's quarters and I get to remain here. I don't know when they'll call me for my Harrowing."

Rina yawned and stretched her arms over her head, rising to her toes and rolling her shoulders to pop the knots out of her back. "They'll call you when you are ready and not a moment sooner. That is how it works with all apprentices," she said, dropping her hands to her sides again. Jowan's fits of temper and shyness had amused her from the first day they had brought her to the Tower and now was to be no different. "You know that Irving thinks of me as a 'protégé' and that that is why I was called before you to take their test. Don't worry, your time will come. Just wait a little longer."

Fear and uncertainty flashed across his face before he turned his head away. "I'm afraid that they do not wish to test me," he murmured. Then, in a louder voice he added, "But I didn't come to trouble you with my problems. Irving wishes to see you. You'd better not keep him waiting. We can speak later." His tone was nervous on the last word as he scurried away, causing her to frown after him for a long moment.

He was acting oddly, but there would be a later time to answer the riddle that he was suddenly presenting. For the moment, there was Irving to deal with and fake platitudes to give and accept for passing a test she had always known she would successfully complete.

On the way, she politely accepted the congratulations of the other apprentices and instructors and returned the scorn that she was plied with. She even managed to acquire a new staff, a necklace, a belt, and a new set of robes - all of which she would never admit to scavenging from the trunks of those that showed her more than scorn. If they were prideful enough to leave their stuff unlocked with only simple charms to look after it, then who was she to pass up finding a better use for their stuff?

Irving was in a meeting with the Knight Commander and another man when she approached his office. She hesitated outside the door, unsure if she should intrude or not. Greagoir and Irving she knew by their robes and the greying of their hair, but the third wore a set of armor that bore a different crest than that of the Templars. It was… familiar… like something she had seen in a book somewhere a long time ago. Say, before she had hunted down the last of the vampires… Ah! The old treaty between man and sentient Dragons. A Grey Warden.

A strange kind of warmth bloomed in her chest as she studied the man. Even with the Dragons gone, there was still a trace of them in those that took the oath to stand against the darkspawn. So long as the Grey Wardens stood, the memory of the race she had loved so dearly would never quite be lost.

"…have already committed enough of our own to the war effort," Greagoir was protesting, to which she repressed a snort.

"'Our own?'" Irving repeated with amusement and steel in his voice. "I was not aware that you had come to think of mages as kin. Or could it be that you are afraid to let mages out from under Chantry supervision, where they can actually use their Maker-given powers?"

The Gray Warden met her gaze and blinked once, twice, then three times as he studied her. His head tilted a little as his eyebrows drew together. It was almost like he was trying to place her face and failing. Finally, he turned his head towards Irving and said, "Gentlemen, please." They fell silent under the slightly raised tone and turned to look at him. "Irving... _someone..._ is here to see you," he continued, nodding at Rina.

She stepped forward, hands clasped before her. "You sent for me, First Enchanter?" she asked, raising her chin and sweeping the room with her eyes. Books upon books and a desk in a room decked with chantry decorations. How quaint… and like him. Her eyes returned again to the Gray Warden's gaze and the intense curiousity he seemed to be studying her with.

Irving's expression lit up upon seeing her and she could not help but notice the way that the Grey Warden's gaze shifted, as though now attempting to determining her value as a person and a fighter. "Ah, if it isn't our new sister in the Circle. Come, child," Irving said genially. Her lips thinned and she did not move one step forward past her place beside the door.

Greagoir scowled at the turn of events, though he did nod marginally to her when she entered. "Well, Irving, you're obviously busy. We'll discuss this later." The Knight-Commander gave a slight bow to Duncan before stiffly departing, the candle light catching and reflecting on the silver of his armor.

In the following moments, she was introduced to Duncan, Commander of the Grey, and received her staff, a new set of robes, and an enchanted medallion before she was shooed away with Duncan in tow. She glanced back in bemusement at her "charge" as she led him down the circular hallway. "If I didn't know better, I would say that this is a clever way of arranging a meeting for looking at a potential recruit," she said with a slight smile curving her lips. "The Tower is hardly the easiest place to get lost, especially for the seasoned warriors that Grey Wardens usually are."

Duncan smiled back in a half ironic sort of way. "You're very well informed for someone that has spent so much time in this isolated tower," he offered back and she laughed.

A slight smile touching her lips, Rina answered, "Not all of us have been caged here for the entirety of our lives. Some of us have even flown among legends." His eyes flashed curiously and her smile only turned to a grin before she stopped before a door and nodded at it. "As much as I have enjoyed this, this is your room and the point at which we part ways."

His gaze still trained on hers and with a bemused look playing across his own features, he said, "Good day. We shall meet again."

She tipped her head in acknowledgement of the meaning behind those words and he closed the door behind him. Turning, she was hardly surprised to catch sight of Jowan lurking nervously in the shadows. She casually walked away and caught his wrist, pulling him after her. "You need not follow me like this. It looks suspicious," she murmured. "I know that there is something bothering you and that you wish to discuss it with me. Lead me to somewhere a little more private and we shall have the discussion that is obviously eating at you."

She released him and he licked his lips, looking around nervously, before nodding. The private area turned out to be the Chapel standing in front of a Chantry Initiate, flickering candles, and a prayer dais. Rina could only rub her forehead in irritation. "Your definition of safe is very skewed, Jowan," she sighed, dropping her hand to her side and glancing between him and the initiate. "This is she, then?"

"Yes," Jowan said, looking at the younger woman fondly, a look that she returned with fervor. "Such relationships are…forbidden, as you know. Lily is promised to the Chantry and as such…relations…with men are expressly forbidden. So, we've had to be careful."

Reading the tension in both of them and seeing the nervous glances that Jowan threw towards the door on occasion, she cast her eyes to the vaulted ceiling and waited for a moment. Satisfied that there were no spells in place to overhear conversations such as the one they were about to have, she asked, "What else is there? Your relationship isn't the only thing at stake here."

Lily looked at the floor and clasped her hand behind her back, still not quite certain whether or not they could really trust the other mage. Jowan, on the other hand, blurted, "They're going to make me Tranquil. They'll take everything I am - my dreams, hopes, fears…"

He was bordering on hysterical as she said, "Stop -" but he didn't seem to hear her.

"…my love for Lily…"

"Jowan-"

"All gone!"

She took a step towards him and put a hand on his shoulder, gripping him in a less than friendly manner. "Stop and breathe. Collect yourself before you draw attention," she said gently when he looked at her with wild eyes. Glancing at Lily, she asked, "How certain are you that this is going to happen?"

Full lips thinned and a hard expression touched her features. "Absolutely certain. There are rumors of him being a blood mage and they are taking no chances."

Rina nodded. "What materials do we specifically need?" she asked, stepping back when Jowan had visibly collected himself.

They gaped at her in surprise and a smile curved her lips. "I have an idea of what you plan to do already but I need to know what materials I need to gather."

Lily blinked slowly and something settled in her eyes. "A rod of fire to mel -"

"That's all I need to know. I can get everything on my own. The two of you stay here, and drift apart after a few minutes. Don't speak while I am gone and do _not _glance at each other. That will only tell the Templars that we are up to something that we likely shouldn't be," she said firmly and they nodded before she took her leave of them.

* * *

An hour later, Rina returned with a rod of fire, another set of mage robes, an extra staff, a pair of daggers, and a variety of potions all neatly bundled under her arm in an old blanket. Jowan and Lily started towards her the moment that she entered the Chapel again, but returned to what they had been doing when she shook her head slightly and sat down in one of the pews. Lily bent her head in silent prayer before the dais and Jowan tried to focus on reading one of the books about the Chant of Light while standing in front of one of the bookshelves. Rina, for all intents and purposes, looked to be engaged in her own quiet prayer.

For twenty agonizing minutes, they remained as they were while several Templars passed through on their rounds and mages and apprentices floated in and out. One Templar engaged Rina in brief conversation to which she smiled and nodded before the young man left to complete his duties. Then, a distant boom sounded somewhere up on the third floor and everyone looked up, frowning into the resulting shower of dust. A commotion arose and most of the Templars hastily departed to take care of it while a few remained and herded the initiates and the mages from the second floor.

Rina sidled up alongside Lily, draped the mage robe across her shoulders, and shoved a hood into her hand. Then, just as quickly, she dropped away again. Lily bent her head and fixed the robes to cover her figure and covered her head with the hood. No one even looked at them twice as they flooded down the stairs with everyone else. The three mages met in the middle of the gaggle and simply vanished as they passed by the door that led into forbidden territory.

* * *

Irving was counting the apprentices again, a tired look settling over his features as he realized who was missing. He turned to Greagoir and, with a slight nod, the Knight-Commander was off to gather what Templars he could in the few minutes they had before Jowan escaped. He sighed and ran a hand through his silver hair. Two apprentices, a newly Harrowed mage, and an initiate- all missing. When had it come to this? This desperate bid for freedom among those that rightly should have kept their distance from each other? Nothing good could come of this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to Cobar713 for betaing this chapter! :)**

* * *

The repository fell away behind them as they set one after another foot upon the stairs that led to the uppermost chambers of the Tower. It had been an easy enough task when they had fought their way through the Sentinels that guarded the phylacteries. They were grinning at each other, their breathing fast and excited as they approached the final door. Almost free of the shackles that had bound them for so long, Rina felt the shadows of memory lifting for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Then, the door opened and the smile fell from her lips, adopting an old mask. There were six Templars backing the First Enchanter and the Knight-Commander. Her stomach twisted and her hand gripping her staff hand lowered even as Lily and Jowan gasped in horror.

So close!

The emotion of anger rippled through her, but she stamped it out with the ease of careful practice. They had been close, but there was a chance, still a chance.

Rina stepped forward, placing herself between the Templars and her friends. A smile twisted her lips and her eyes held the cold edge of amusement as she began in a measured cadence, "It was my fault, First Enchanter. I convinced Jowan and Lily to help me try and escape." She paused to judge the shocked expression on the First Enchanter's face, then continued, "I did not wish to spend my life in a gilded cage to be controlled by the whims of shiny jailors that claim to be carrying out the will of the Maker." All the while, her fingers tightened subtly around her staff and sparked a little with magic, though not enough to make the Templars act.

Irving was shaking his head and began, "Rina, all mages are-"

"No, I'll not hear it," she said flatly. "I've heard enough of it for three years. I know where I stand. Allow Jowan and Lily their freedom. It was I that started the rumors of him being the Blood Mage in the first place, after all."

A vein was throbbing in the Knight-Commander's forehead as he absorbed the deception played by the newly Harrowed mage. "You needed accomplices. Why ask for their freedom now?"

Jowan started at that, but wisely kept his mouth shut. He had known her long enough for him to know when she was spinning a tale that would keep him and others safe and place the blame squarely on her shoulders. For the moment, he slid an arm around Lily's shoulders, knowing this wasn't the extent of the plan.

Rina merely shrugged, the motion hiding a subtle pulse of magic that traveled through her fingers into the staff she held. "My game has been caught. I see no reason to drag them further along into it."

"Ah, Rina," Irving sighed. "That is not how these things work. The pair of them will be punished alongside you to discourage future, foolish escape attempts like yours."

Lily whimpered and pressed herself into Jowan's side. He tightened his arm around her and watched the other mage, sure that there was something more, something else.

A smile played about her lips. "I know," she said and that was the only warning they received before the staff activated and slammed a paralysis spell down on Irving, preventing him from moving as lightning danced about her fingertips and lit the air around them with a stunning light. It bought them only a moment, and in that moment, she grabbed Jowan and Lily and shoved them towards the door, trusting they would get the hint and that they would be able to overpower the few Templars that stood in their way.

Jowan breathed his thanks and she smiled grimly before they took flight and the power of six Templars crashed into her, sapped her magic, and forced her to her knees. Greagoir was already shouting orders to his men to retrieve the escaping mage and former initiate, but she staggered to her feet and stood in their way. They wasted precious seconds subduing and binding her and by the time they were satisfied that she was no longer a threat, her spell had worn off of Irving and there was no sign of Jowan or Lily.

On her knees once more, she watched them from beneath a veil of red hair, wearing a small, grim smile. At least one part of the plan had worked. Amell, Jowan, and Lily would go free, even if her life was forfeit. Greagoir paced angrily back and forth even as Irving tried to talk him down from sending her to her death at the mage's prison, Aeonar. But he ignored the Senior Enchanter's words as he stopped before her and caught her steady gaze.

"Your antics have made a mockery of this circle!" he growled. "What are we to do with you?"

"Do what you like. I stand by my decision to help Jowan," she said calmly, tilting her head back to study his glowering features.

The vein pulsed a little more in his forehead at her answer. He had always had a soft spot for the girl. She had been a little older than the normal apprentice when she had arrived and the circumstances that surrounded her "capture" were questionable if only because she had surrendered and walked away from her burnt out hovel of a home. Two years had been all that was needed for her to find a place in their tower and two years to become so proficient at her studies that she had impressed the First Enchanter enough to let her take her Harrowing three years before anyone was even allowed to be considered for it.

She was bright, quick, and proficient. Greagoir had found it hard to resist her charm and had turned a blind eye to some of her harmless pranks when she proved to be as obedient to their ways as a Tranquil mage._ Of course_, he thought bitterly, _of course she would have buried the rebellious streak in her nature to be called upon only when she needed it most. She was far too clever to have done otherwise. _

So, instead of dwelling on his own failings, he ranted. "You helped a blood mage escape! All our work for naught—because of you!"

She made no response. Her eyes simply slid over his shoulder and focused intently on something there. Before he could continue, a cultured voice interrupted him. "Knight-Commander, if I may…" he didn't wait for a response before continuing. "I am not only looking for mages to join the king's army. I am also recruiting for the Grey Wardens. Irving spoke highly of this mage, and I would like her to join the Warden ranks."

Irving frowned and stepped forward. "Duncan, this mage assisted a maleficar, and has shown a lack of regard for the Circle's rules."

"She is a danger to all of us!" Greagoir said sharply.

It was a rare thing when the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter agreed on anything, she reflected with irony, even as she locked eyes with the Warden Commander. "It is a rare person who risks all for a friend in need. I stand by my decision to recruit this mage."

"No! I refuse to let this go unpunished," Greagoir snarled. Rina simply laughed.

"If the Grey Wardens will have me, then I will gladly go," she said, working the sleeves of her robes. "I would have gladly left with them before this entire mess." With a slight flick of her wrist and a quick *snick*, she rose gracefully to her feet as the ropes slithered to the ground. They watched in shock as she produced a dagger and slid it back into the arm of her robe and flashed them a satisfied smile. "I am more than just a mage," she told them. To Duncan, who was smiling slightly, she gave a slight bow. "There is nothing more for me here. I am ready to leave when you are."

His eyes were keen as he searched hers before nodding. "There is one other we must retrieve before we leave this place," he said.

She only gave him a measured, weary look before she shrugged. "If the Wardens desire my skills, I'll follow," she said. Irving looked like he wanted to say more, but Duncan had already taken her elbow and turned her away, placing his body between her and the Templars and First Enchanter. Together, they left the tower and never looked back.

* * *

The Inn had a dining room that smelled of old cabbage and unwashed bodies. It was almost full and the noise simply kept climbing as the barkeep kept supplying ale and taking in more coin with an almost satisfied smirk on his lips. Rina wrinkled her nose at the smell and covered her mouth with the sleeve of her robe. "Is she really in this place, Duncan?" Rina asked.

Duncan barely blinked at the lack of title. "If she held to her end of the bargain, then yes she here. I suspect she has not left, at any rate," he answered.

The city elf was there, in fact. Frozen, hidden in the shadows she knew so intimately. Her eyes were wide, fixed on this elf- this _mage_- who was quite literally her double.

The odds that this woman had no relation to her were minuscule, yet Rose desperately held on to that rationalization. Surely, if she had family, a sister or a cousin, they would not have left her in slavery. At the very least, she was certain her master would have sought them out as yet another tool to guarantee her cooperation.

She forced herself to inhale, to steady her spinning head, and then to take a few cautious steps forward into the common room.

Duncan saw her before Rina, a strange look passing over his features. He glanced sidelong at Rina as she spotted the other elf across the room and froze at the sight of her. "Demon?"

"Recruit," Duncan corrected her mildly and she returned the sidelong glance.

"Right, I'm not going to ask," she muttered even as an odd look flashed through her eyes.

"Yes. This is Rina," he said and then glanced at Rina again to say, "This is Rose."

Rina raked her fingers through her hair, the sleeve of her robe falling from her wrist to allow the room a look at the thin, white scars that traced her arm. She smiled in a mirthless kind of way. "Like the flower, hm?" she asked. "Easy enough to remember."

Rose was tacing the contours of Rina's face, trying to find something different enough to convince her that she was right. "Yes," she said. "Like the flower."

The other elf's gaze flitted to Duncan, who had already moved away before Rose had said anything, before Rina followed after him. Her steps were deliberately placed, like she was fighting to stay standing as they walked out the door. Duncan's pace seemed to moderate itself as she matched his steps away from the tower that had been her prison.

* * *

The beaten road was strewn with bodies, some groaning in pain, others lying still in pools of red. Three remained, an archer and two rogues. Rose pulled her daggers from the freshest casualty and began to move for the archer.

The rogue closest to Rina brandished his axe, laughing. It made one wonder if there was anything taking up the space between his ears. "Look at the little mage, waving her stick around! Pretty sure I could snap you in half, if I tried."

Old reflexes had her spinning to face the bandit. Power gathered at her fingertips as she drew breath to shout orders to her companions before she realized _who_ she traveled with. _Flash of scent, fragments of voice. _The magic dissipated from her hands and Rina laughed, high and clear as she threw her arms wide in invitation to the lumbering brute. "Come and try," she said in a voice that was both amused and cold.

Duncan could only spare a single glance as his recruit taunted the brute and paused in the motion of wiping the blood from his blade. Then, pain blossomed in his thigh as an arrow sunk deep into a rip in his armor. A quick jerk of his dagger had the shaft removed with the arrow tip still lodged in place. Then, he was engaging the archers, one dagger flicked from his hand to sink into the throat of one as the other dove for cover and fumbled with his belt.

There was a sickening crunch from the remaining archer at the hands of Rose just as the last bandit ran at Rina with a fierce battle cry. He held his weapons before him, ready to slice her open.

She brought the butt of her staff down onto his foot, released it, drove her elbow into his unprotected gut, and jabbed her palm into his chin. Stepping away from the dazed bandit, she gathered magic into her hands and released the lightning into his body.

He convulsed, foam running down his chin. The smell of singed flesh filled the air and he crumpled at Rina's feet. Rose walked up to her, sheathing her daggers. "Nothing good on the other ones."

Rina's eyes were curiously dead as she glanced at the other elf. "His leathers were shoddy protection, and none of the blades seemed to carry proper balance," she responded, turning to another corpse and bending to kneel beside it. "Better than what I've got now."

"You prefer blades to magic?" Rose asked.

As Rina's hands flew deftly over the buckles that held the straps together, she almost chuckled. "Its how I was trained," she said even as something stabbed at her heart. "Magic and blades combined are more potent and lethal than the merely defensive stance that most mages tend to favor. Leather armor is also best since lightning can fry skin to metal unless otherwise enchanted, and it and protects better than robes."

Rose nodded approvingly. "I've never seen anyone combine blades and magic- not the _same_ person, anyway." She paused, and her eyes flashed, as if something unpleasant had occurred to her. "I prefer blades. I was never any good at archery."

Setting aside the mostly undamaged leathers, the mage snorted and started on prying the blade from the dead man's grip. "As far as I know, I _am _the only mage that fights as I do."

Duncan sat on a rock five feet from them with his wounded leg stretched out before him, his hand steady as he dug the tip out of his thigh with the tip of his dagger. For all that he was intent on the wound, he appeared to have half an ear on their conversation.

"Who taught you, then?" Rose asked abruptly, as if she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to ask at all. Her expression was guarded.

The dagger now free of its former owner, Rina twirled it around her fingers, caught it, and stabbed it into the ground. With a slanted, darkened gaze, she answered, "Those that fought with everything they were rather than with weapons. They were no one you would have known."

Duncan looked at Rina, his hands pausing in the act of tying off a bandage around the wound. "You were raised among dragons," he said, one eyebrow climbing above the other.

The rogue stepped away from Rina, her eyes darting between her companions. She swallowed. "The dragons?" she said quietly. "The... sentient ones?"

For a moment, Rina appeared to not have heard them before her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger and she rose with a fluid grace that made her silken robes ripple. She gave them both an oblique

glance as she slid the dagger into its sheath she had pried from the bandit's ruined belt. "Yes, they were the sentient dragons. I was with them up to the last day before the war."

There was a long silence. "Have you been at the tower since then? It's been three years, hasn't it?"

Sliding the dagger into her sleeve, she crouched to look over the armor again. "No. It's been three and a half years, actually. I spent six months tracking down the Lanshae that survived that battle."

Duncan stood, tested his weight against the wound, and asked, "What are the Lanshae?"

"They were a race sensitive to fire that fed off the life-force of mortals," Rina answered automatically. Duncan nodded his understanding.

"Not all are so easily killed," Rose added.

Rina leveled an even look at her as she considered those words. "I never said they were an easy lot to kill," she said finally. "And they aren't a well known race to begin with."

Rose betrayed no emotion. "And not all Alienage elves are uneducated."

The mage's gaze was cold, and while Duncan seemed to note the tension building between them, he did not rush to interfere. Rina's gaze was hard as she studied her look alike. "Its not a question of where you came from or how educated you are. How did you come by your knowledge of them?"

Rose shrugged in answer. "Travelers talk, especially when there's free drink to be had."

Something flashed through Rina's eyes as thoughts flickered across her mind, her own knowledge of the race, of their deaths, of the times they had screamed beneath her hands. In the other's face, in the tilt of the lips, the shift of the eyes, she saw the desire to back away from a hastily made statement, a carelessly uttered word. "Why would you want to know in the first place?"

Rina stepped towards the other recruit, tension humming in every movement of her body. "Rina," Duncan said, his voice all sharp edges and commanding. She looked at him, even reluctant as she was to let the topic slide away. "Enough," he said and she stiffened. "You are one of my Wardens now, and I will not tolerate violence among our ranks. You have an issue with another recruit or Warden, then you bring it to me,"

Her lips peeled back into a snarl, but she spun away from them, gathered the armor, and stalked away, leaving them behind. From her place among the trees, Rina heard Duncan say, "Get your gear together and clean your blades while she gets changed. As soon as she's back, we're on the move again."

When the mage emerged several minutes later, Rose hadn't moved. She stared after Rina, her eyes sharp and features devoid of expression. Finally, Rose turned away to do as her Commander ordered, with a new, guarded set to her shoulders that wasn't there before.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to Asiera for betaing this chapter! :)**

* * *

The structures that came into view as they drew ever nearer to Ostagar were imposing, tall and shining brightly in the sunlight. Though they were mere ruins of their former glory, the vestiges of the fortress were still enough to chill Rina's spine. As they came within viewing distance of the army, Rina had to pause and appreciate the sheer size of it all.

Activity picked up in pace around them as messengers ran errands for their masters, the faint barking of dogs she had heard earlier was steadily becoming louder, and there seemed to be no end to respectful looks and greetings that Duncan was forced to stop and give every time someone important-looking glanced twice at him.

Every so often, Rina would glance at her ever silent fellow recruit. Her eyes narrowed at the complete lack of reaction and suspicion began to creep into her stomach as her mind kept turning back to the words that had been spoken between them.

Ignoring it for the moment, Rina adjusted her pack and rolled her shoulder, grimacing at the stiffness and smell of the leathers she had stripped from several corpses. The weight of the sword at her hip and the daggers on her back as well as the small knives tucked into her armor were a comforting feel against her body as they moved deeper into the camp.

Tilting her head back, Rina glanced at the arch that moved to shelter them and almost missed the glint of sunlight off the golden armor of the man approaching them. The mage froze as her eyes finally landed on the golden haired man who had walked over to their party and was currently exchanging pleasantries with Duncan.

For a second, she couldn't hear what was being said or see what was around her. For that instant in time, all she could see and hear was the occasion that she had first met the boy-king what felt an eternity ago. She was held captive in the moment of their meeting, when Cailan's cheeks had been flushed with excitement and his tone spirited as old myths walked from legend and into his grand throne room. The grumbling of their guards had been amusing. Jeremy had simply laughed in the face of naked swords bared against their own strength and magic. Cailan had been the first to introduce himself and Anora.

Then, as soon as the past had overtaken her senses, it was gone and Ostagar stood before her again, and she was simply a mage taken from the Circle.

Suddenly, his bright blue eyes slid to her and his eyes widened in surprise, recognition flashing through them. "Lady Rina!" he gasped, and pain lanced through her with his words. "How fares Lord Jeremy these days?"

She faltered and then felt the old smile slide across her lips; one that held no form of happiness behind its curves.

Duncan blinked as her body language shifted and she lost the bright edge of energy that her movements that usually held.

"He's well, your majesty," she informed him smoothly. "Dead, but well in all other regards, I suppose."

"Oh," he said, suddenly fumbling for words. "That is…I'm...sorry?"

It sounded like a question and he flushed because it _also_sounded like he was asking how he _should_feel about the news.

Her smile turned into a strained grin as her heart clenched. "It's quite alright, Highness. It was little over three years ago. Most of the sentient dragons are gone, killed alongside him in a war against the Lanshae. Lucas is also very dead, so there's no need to worry on that front."

It was, she would reflect later, only fair that he know the fate of those he had met and the enemies they had proposed he face with them. Their reason to break the traditional isolation had been to seek aid against Lucas. Cailan had promised them a hundred mages and their Templar guardians should they simply send up the call for help again, but that call had never been sent and the need for them was long since past.

Duncan turned his head to frown at her. Her tone was light and she made no move to bow as a lesser ranked individual would have. Rina could see he accurately suspected she was familiar with him.

"When I heard that two elves accompanied the Warden Commander, I never thought that one would be the Dragon Consort," Cailan said, attempting a smile.

Rina laughed. "Just Rina, these days. Hopefully Warden Rina soon," she responded before turning to nod at her companion. "This is my fellow recruit, Rose."

"_All the arrangements have been made, Magister. We simply require your seal."_

_Rose felt dwarfed by the falling citadel they stood in, a comparison she thought the architect speaking to her Master would not appreciate. It was strange to see someone stand before him without fear, even someone who had little reason to fear magic. She expected her Master to be affronted by his abrupt personality, but he simply nodded to the silent figure behind her._

_The amount of gold needed to restore these ruins to their original state was almost staggering. Her Master was too proud to care. There had been whispers, harsh rumors of things happening beneath his mansion that would be devastating if revealed. Perhaps, if there was something else to see, something to improve the city, prying eyes would look elsewhere._

_They departed silently, leaving the dwarf slightly flustered that he'd been trusted with the sum. But There could be nothing left to chance. There were many more places to see today, lost to the merciless progression of time._

She felt their absence, even in the grip of memories. Rose jumped, turning from the almost-intact wall in front of her to catch up to Duncan and Rina.

This place was almost simple compared to the monuments that she'd seen repaired, only a handful of the projects favored by the Magisters. The bright stone used here was not often chosen in Minrathous, and only seen favored in one citadel, just miles from her Master's home; a citadel bought with blood for the silence of underhanded officials.

Rose managed to sneak behind Rina, hoping her lapse had not been noticed, just in time to hear herself introduced. For the first time, she gave her attention to the human before her, dressed in grand armor and carrying the arrogance that only nobility could.

Ignoring Rina's awkward handover, she nodded once to him. "Your Highness," she said stiffly, for who else here could afford such an inane amount of guards simply to greet a Gray Warden?

Rose had vowed to never bend knee for another again, and most certainly not a human. This boy, with his youthful face, blonde hair and tall stance might like to view Rina as an equal, but Rose could only be what she appeared to be- an elf. She couldn't claim to be surprised by that. She had yet to meet anyone who could ignore her race and perceived status in this world ruled by those who thrived on contradiction.

There was an awkward silence, and she offered Cailan no further words.

"Pleased to meet you!" he greeted, oblivious to her hostility. "The Grey Wardens are desperate to bolster their numbers and I, for one, am glad to help them. I understand you hail from Denerim?"

Rose did not miss the closed expression her Commander was giving Rina, or the way she shifted, avoiding his gaze. She trained her eyes on the king. "More or less," was her curt reply. "I am not sure if the hovels you call 'Alienages' can be considered part of the city."

He was momentarily startled and Rina's lips curved in amusement. The mage huffed a breath of laughter when the king simply blinked owlishly at Rose.

"How is it there?" he inquired innocently. "My guards have never allowed me to visit, so I have never seen the Alienage," he said, voice laced with an odd kind of humor in an attempt to soften the conversation.

With those words, Rose lost the tenuous control of her temper. This king, this _shemlen _wished to know how her kind lived? "I think you would find it not to your liking, Your Majesty." Her voice almost froze the air between them. "Unless, of course, the perverse desires of Arl Urien and his son are shared by the rest of your court."

If Duncan's sudden unease was anything to go by, she walked a dangerous line.

Rose crossed her arms, fixing in her mind the look on Shianni's face when she'd found her on Vaughan's floor. "I'm afraid you'll have something of a crisis awaiting you at home, seeing as Lord Vaughan..._overstepped_...himself. I am forever grateful to Duncan. His intervention saved me from the gallows- cold comfort to my cousin, whom Lord Vaughan raped before I slit his throat."

Rina sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Duncan simply stared, not quite sure what to say. Cailan blinked at Rose for a moment. "What?" was his best response.

"Cailan. Majesty," Rina said patiently and waited until he looked at her. "It seems there was an incident in Denerim in your absence that was likely the result of years of abuse. You need to take a better look at your nobles before you give them any kind of power."

"Not that the Wardens are in any position to tell you how to rule," Duncan cut in smoothly when Cailan continued to stare at her. "We are, after all, politically neutral in all cases."

"Does it matter? The graves beneath the _vhenedhal _will be heeded, eventually. I simply brought it to His Majesty's attention. Better he hear the truth of the matter before his pet nobles whisper lies into his ears."

Cailan's gaze was a little darker when he glanced at Rose. "Your people will have justice. As soon as we are done here, I will turn my army towards Denerim and deal with Arl Urien and his family immediately," he promised.

Rose was too shocked to respond immediately. She couldn't believe his promise. A_ shem_ couldn't possibly care about this... What she had said was out of pure spite, something to shock him. She nodded numbly, hearing some vague acceptance from the woman behind her in her continued silence.

Then, he looked at Rina. "Will you speak with me once you have finished you duties for the Wardens?"

"Of course," she answered, face blank.

His lips twitched into a smile. "Well, then allow me to be the first to welcome you to Ostagar. The Wardens will benefit greatly with you in their ranks," he said at length. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I should return to my tent. Loghain waits eagerly to bore me with his strategies," he said with a rueful smile.

"Your uncle sends his greetings and reminds you that Redcliffe forces could be here in less than a week," Duncan said, sliding over the awkward silence that seemed to fill the space in the next moment.

The young king simply laughed at that and his smile broadened. "Eamon just wants in on the glory. We've won three battles against these monsters and tomorrow should be no different."

Rina and Rose studied him for a long moment. "You sound very confident of that," Rina commented at last.

"Overconfident, some would say. Right, Duncan?" he asked with another laugh.

Rose had a few other choice words she could willingly offer, but she held her tongue. If Cailan's offer had been honest, she had no intentions of giving him reason to change his mind.

Duncan's features hardened for a fleeting instant before he carefully said, "Your Majesty, I'm not certain the Blight can be ended quite as…quickly as you might wish."

Cailan shrugged."I'm not even sure this is a true Blight. There are plenty of darkspawn on the field, but alas, we've seen no sign of a dragon." He realized what he was implying a moment after the words slipped from his tongue, glanced at Rina, and colored a brilliant shade of crimson. "Ah, that is…what I meant to say…"

Rina laughed and tilted her head."A sentient dragon could not be bothered to attack humanity. If your archdemon _is _a sentient dragon, then it is not very intelligent and therefore not one of mine," she said and Cailan visibly relaxed. Her smile remained fixed in place as she studied him for a long moment. "You mentioned Loghain awaits your presence, Highness? I'm sure you don't want to keep him waiting to review the tactics that will see your troops through tomorrow night," she said and he winced.

Rose resisted the almost overwhelming urge to scoff at that. It really wasn't any shock that he hadn't quite considered the consequences of war in the pursuit of _glory._

In a softer voice, Rina added, "Off with you then, Cailan, and never forget that your soldiers and your people look to you to provide peace. Bring them home safely."

He colored slightly and said, "Yes, well. It is likely that he will send out a search party soon if I do not turn up. Farewell, Grey Wardens!" With that he departed, leaving behind a bemused Rina.

Rose watched him stride off, eyes shadowed by her hair and her features carefully blank.

Duncan eyed Rina and she met his gaze with her own passive stare. "Grey Wardens do not have authority over the king," he said evenly.

"I'm not going to apologize," she returned. "We might need his support in this _venture_, but that doesn't mean you get to ignore his tendency to chase after distractions. Not when it might get us all killed, Commander."

Duncan simply blinked, more than a bit surprised as she turned from him to study Rose.

"And who are you to give orders to your Commander?" Rose demanded, despite the fact that she too hadn't really shown the king the respect such a title demanded.

Rina's grin was a touch feral as she chuckled. "Someone who knows Cailan," she answered. "If he isn't set back on the proper course from time to time, he's liable to forget there _is_a war."

Rose's expression remained passive. "Regardless, it is not your place."

"Then whose place is it?" she returned.

"Enough," Duncan cut across them. "We should proceed with the ritual."

Rina glanced at him, a sour look settling across her features.

"Every recruit must go through the Joining," he answered the expression on the elf's face.

"The Joining?" Rina asked, an odd note coloring her voice. "I've read references in old dragon history, but they were never really clear on what it was."

Duncan didn't look surprised, but he bypassed the comment entirely. "You may wander the camp for the moment, but I will ask you not to leave. There is another Grey Warden in the area by the name of Alistair. When you are ready to begin, find him."

Rina simply smiled at Duncan before nodding and vanishing to ransack the camp.

A heavy sigh came from Rose; she relaxed her posture and avoided looking at either of them. "I'll get Alistair," she volunteered.

When the young women were a good distance away, Duncan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. If the archdemon didn't kill him, then these two most certainly would.

After that, there was a full hour in which he took care of the menial tasks that made him a commander. He set the patrols for the night, spoke severely with the Warden that had attempted to solicit a female soldier for sex, and ordered several repairs to their equipment. He even had a spare moment to contemplate dinner before a knight found him and started ranting on the topic of one of his recruits about her thieving ways.

"I'm certain there is another explanation," Duncan said sharply, a frown creasing his features.

"No there's not," the knight snarled back, hands clenched into fists. "My man caught her with her hand in his pocket."

"Careful. We are talking about a Grey Warden. I would trust her word over your man's," Duncan replied coolly. Even if he could easily bring himself to believe the remark about Rina, he was inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt when she was not present to defend herself. "In any event, I vouch for the good conduct of all Grey Wardens here. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Warden," the knight grumbled before wandering off.

Duncan watched him go. Belief or no, she had had that new, enchanted ring and it had looked far too expensive and well crafted to have been sold to her by the quartermaster. Perhaps a sharp word _was_required with her to curb her habits of lifting items from the unsuspecting...at least from those she was not quite skilled to catch unawares. A Warden did, after all, use a range of skills and tools to accomplish their missions.

* * *

In retrospect, Rose probably should have ignored the conversation. Creators knew that she'd heard more than enough lecherous comments in Denerim, directed at her or not. But her mixed emotions from her encounter with Cailan had left her on edge, and the increasingly uncomfortable female soldier that had been cornered looked like she could use some help.

"Life's fleeting, you know. That pretty face could be decorating a darkspawn spear this time tomorrow-"

"Have you seen a Warden around here? Alistair, I think?" she asked loudly.

"Shall I take that- Oh, it's you!" He took a long look at her, his eyes straying a bit too long. Rose decided to ignore it. "Well. You're not what I thought you'd be."

"And what did you think I'd be?"

The rogue grinned, completely oblivious to the narrowing of her eyes. "Not... an elf. Yet here you are." His tone was not winning him any respect, either. "Name's Daveth-"

"Right. I'm Rose." The soldier from earlier had made a hasty retreat. Rose glanced in the opposite direction, hoping he'd take the hint. "So, the Warden... seen him?"

Daveth spared the soldier a parting glance, though by now Rose was certain she must be almost out of sight. "Oh, I dunno. There's a lot of Wardens around here. Could be anyone."

And, of course, Duncan had given almost no information beyond a name. Rose sighed. "Fine, I'll look myself." She'd barely gone three steps when he called after her.

"Wait! Aren't you worried? Have they told you anything about this Joining ritual?"

"No."

"I hear they might be sending us into the Wilds."

Dear Creators, was he trying to start a _conversation_?

He ignored her silence. "I grew up in a village not far from here. There's all sorts of creatures, witches, and Maker knows what else."

"They wouldn't kill us just after recruiting us." Rose replied tersely. "If you're so afraid, just watch my back and I'll watch yours."

"Oh, I'll watch your back."

That was the last thing Rose intended to let the cheeky rogue say. Her thin fingers were on Daveth's throat in less than a heartbeat. As fast as he was, being a rogue, he hadn't expected her attack. "Or I could kill you now." Rose suggested icily. Her grip was far from tight enough to strangle him. Still, he panicked, hands grabbing at her wrists. The slowly darkening tint of his face just made her smile.

"You know, not that I've got a death wish or anything, but it's generally frowned upon to murder the Warden recruits _before_the Joining."

Rose couldn't help it. The voice she heard was warm, and practically bursting with suppressed laughter. A genuine grin passed her lips and she turned her head slightly. "But it's fine to kill them afterward, you mean?"

She still couldn't see him clearly, only the glint of the sun on his armor. "Oh, yes. We kill them by the dozens. A very close Warden secret, mind you; we make up the Blight so no one gets hanged for mass murder."

If possible, her smile widened.

"But, seeing as we're trying to keep up appearances, you should probably let him go before he passes out."

She glanced at Daveth and the alarming shade of red he had turned. With a soft sigh, she let go.

He fell to his knees, coughing and gasping. After he managed a few deep breaths, he glared at her. "A bit extreme, wasn't it?" he rasped.

"Oh, you're fine," Rose scoffed. "I'd be more worried about the fact that you let an elven woman bring you to your knees one-handed."

"You're mad!" he exclaimed angrily.

"No, I just don't take kindly to human fools who think I'm an easy lay."

His wide eyes narrowed, then that smug expression was back. Really, hadn't he learned his lesson? "Well, it's not like I could miss the scenery-"

Daveth's head snapped back with a sharp _crack_. He howled, clutching his bleeding nose. "What a shame." Rose's voice was deceptively soft. "Your eyes will be blurry for quite a while- think of all the _scenery _you'll be missing!"

The human scrambled to his feet and fled her presence, leaving Rose clutching her sides as she laughed. She had almost forgotten the stranger who had spoken before.

"Well. That's one way to make new friends."

Rose turned, something telling her that this was the Warden she was to bring back to Duncan. She took a moment to study him, from his red-blonde hair to the strange color his eyes. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn't quite place it.

"I'm not here to make friends," she said, careful to keep her voice neutral. No point in getting off on the wrong foot to begin with.

"I don't know, maybe he likes pain. You could have him hanging all over you by tomorrow."

Rose arched an eyebrow. "I wouldn't recommend it unless he wants to fight the darkspawn off with his teeth."

He laughed, his shoulders shaking and face alight with amusement. There was something endearing about it. "You know, I must say, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together."

"How long they survive in each other's company is something else altogether," Rose shot back.

"I think I've got a fair chance, here. My name is Alistair, the new Gray Warden." He glanced at his armor and grinned sheepishly. "Though... I guess you've already figured that out."

Her hand was offered to him before she was aware of making the decision. "Rose Tabris." Creators only knew what her true surname was, but she'd adopted Cyrion's when she moved to the Alienage.

Alistair nodded as he shook her hand. "Right, that was the name. Are you the recruit from the Circle? Duncan spoke quite highly of you."

An identical face flashed across her mind, the smell of stale alcohol and the uneasiness of fear made her whole body go very still. Rose's smile faltered. The Circle? He thought she was that other girl, Rina. It occurred to her that she knew nothing of this man. Feeling slightly horrified, she took a step back and attempted to collect her thoughts. This was a stranger, a _human_; a future comrade. Duncan's words came back to her, about prejudice getting in the way of fighting together. Rose had told him she could do it. "I'm no mage." She corrected, her tone far cooler than before.

Either he didn't read the warning in her voice, or he decided to ignore it. "Oh! Then you're the hero from Denerim." He seemed a bit more pleased than seemed decent about that.

"Hero?" She echoed hollowly.

"Well, Duncan wasn't very specific. He just said you were about to be hanged for taking the blame for someone... Or something like that." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I... didn't read the missive well, to be perfectly honest." At her sudden silence, Alistair shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. "Anyway, I assume you're ready to go back to Duncan? I'm to accompany you as you prepare for the Joining."

Rose's good humor was completely gone. She hadn't wanted to think of magic or Tevinter or what had happened to Shianni today, but everyone seemed determined to remind her in one way or another. "I'd rather prepare on my own."

"I know, I felt the same way. Unfortunately, they don't give us much choice in the matter."

Rose crossed her arms defiantly. "I don't appreciate the thought of a baby-sitter."

"Don't worry, I'll try not to embarrass you."

"Oh, I don't think you'll have to _try_."

Alistair laughed again. "I like you. You're a funny, funny woman." His face lit up as something occurred to him. "You know, I just realized... There aren't a lot of women in the Gray Wardens. I wonder why that is?"

Rose knew a double-edged question when she heard it. "Perhaps because we're too smart for you."

"Oh? Then what does that make _you_?" Shit. She walked right into that.

Her mouth opened, then closed. Rose couldn't remember the last time she'd been struck speechless. "I-" Oh, she wanted to wipe that snarky look off his face. "_Incredibly _unlucky," she concluded.

Whether by unnatural intelligence or dumb luck, the Warden didn't comment on her answer. She could hear the laughter in his voice, though, and it irked her. "Well, if you have any questions, let me know. Otherwise, lead on."

* * *

In the corner of the camp where the sick and injured were brought together, Rina stood before a cage with food she had liberated from a guard in one hand. With the guard still thoroughly dazed from her disorienting spell, Rina exchanged the food and drink for a key and returned the prisoner's blessings. Turning, she found a male in armor staring oddly at her. Tucking her prize away, she smiled at the man. "What brings you to this side of camp, good sir?"

He blinked. "Oh, I'm one of the Grey Warden recruits," he answered. "I am Ser Jory. Why do you wear armor? I thought elves wore only common clothes."

She felt a stab of annoyance, but let it roll away as with other emotions. "I'm another recruit," Rina answered, then her eyes darted to a flushed figure making its way up the ramp, his eyes over his shoulder.

Jory followed her gaze and smiled slightly. "That is Daveth. He was recruited from Denerim. Duncan found me in Highever."

A smile crinkled the corners of her eyes as she chuckled. She almost liked him despite his earlier comment. "I and another recruit were Conscripted within the vicinity of Denerim. Were you Conscripted or did you impress Duncan enough to be recruited?"

Jory blinked. "I won a tournament that was meant to find the best swordsman in Highever. Let me tell you, it wasn't easy to impress Duncan."

The man Jory called Daveth was edging closer, eyes still trained over his shoulder as if he was watching someone. It was only when he nearly nearly collided with another soldier that he looked ahead. He locked eyes with Rina. His blotchy face paled instantly and sweat beaded on his brow. "You- but she- Over there-" He laughed nervously and took a step back. "Deja-vu. Wonderful thing. Wouldn't you know?"

Rina took a step towards him, uncertainty lighting her features. The rogue back pedaled, ran to the left, leaping over the stone barrier to the lower level of the camp.

* * *

Alistair had heard a lot of strange thing; growing up in the Chantry had pretty much guaranteed it. He'd learned quickly to smile and nod and ignore most of what he was told. He'd _seen _some strange things, too, but only after his Conscription.

This one, though, caught him off-guard. Well, not only the identical women glaring at him in tandem, but his meeting the longer-haired one earlier had been a... unique circumstance, to say the least. One didn't often come across dainty elves manhandling human rogues twice their size.

"Uh... I take it that's a no...?" He asked carefully. Based on their reaction, his remark about them being related was probably more true than either of them would like to admit. After all, why by the Maker would two identical elven women just happen to meet here, both as Conscripted Warden recruits? Coincidence could only go so far.

"Quite obviously," Rina bit back at him as she shifted her pack and glanced quickly away.

"If we're going anywhere, I'm seeing the Quartermaster first and getting some potions. I don't fancy a trek through the Wilds with only my skill for healing." She paused. "Which, trust me, you wouldn't want to do. I'm good with things like fire and lightning, but healing? I'm better at turning things inside out."

With that, she set off back across the camp towards the Quartermaster. Jory stared after her, looking a little green. "She's a mage?" he asked.

Alistair resisted the urge to clutch his stomach, certain he looked about as green as the warrior. "Yeah," he replied. "And one I'm making a point to avoid if I run out of potions."

He turned to Rose, who was looking a bit too smug at the panicked glances Daveth gave her from his place beside Duncan yards away. "Do you know crafting?" Alistair asked her.

She blinked, and her eyes focused on him. Rose's gaze was incredibly direct, far more than any other elf he'd known, even more so than many humans. "Poisons, yes. Poultices? I'd probably make a corrosive acid on accident."

"Right. Well. Potions it is then." He tried to smile, but the thought of going out into the Wilds with four green recruits and only a handful of health potions was making him a little nervous. What was Duncan thinking? Sensing Darkspawn was not going to be an asset if one of them died of blood loss.

The thought made him glance at Jory and Rose. He never looked forward to Joinings. He'd sat through a fair number since his own, and it never got easier. Tomorrow morning, one of them was bound to be dead, maybe all of them. He thought of Daveth's terror of the small elven woman, and the thought of Rose not making it through the ritual suddenly and inexplicably bothered him. It could be that strange _something _about her; those eyes that demanded respect, or at least recognition. The other one, Rina, had the same sort of presence. But she felt almost aloof to him, as if she were separate from them. The remaining recruits were good men, he supposed, but not by any means extraordinary.

Or it could all just be the funny smelling cheese he'd had the night before. There was no way to be certain, anyway.

Rina slipped back into the group a while later, her pack noticeably lighter and with a new sword that made Duncan stop and eye her. She simply flashed him a grin as she handed about small sacks that held six potions each. "Don't use them all and do try to not get yourself killed. I can sear wounds closed with fire so you don't die of blood loss, but that can lead to nasty infections. So try not to get wounded before we can get back to camp."

Alistair decided not to comment, instead leading the group to Duncan. He ignored Daveth's quick maneuver to stand as far away from Rose as possible. "Well, here they are. Four recruits, all ready for the secret impending initiation."

Duncan sighed at the spectacle they were making, but said nothing on it. "I see you've found Alistair. Good. I'll assume you're ready to begin, then," he said. "So long as you are done riling up mages, Alistair."

"What can I say? The Revered Mother ambushed me." He shrugged. "The way she wields guilt they should stick her in the army."

"She forced you to sass the mage, did she?" he asked skeptically. "We cannot afford to antagonize anyone, Alistair. We don't need to give anyone more ammunition against us."

Alistair sighed heavily. Some people just couldn't take a joke. "You're right, Duncan. I... apologize."

He turned his gaze back to the four recruits. "Now, then, since you are all here, we can begin. You four will be heading into the Korcari Wilds to perform two tasks. The first is to obtain four vials of darkspawn blood, one for each of you."

"What do we need the darkspawn blood for?" Rina asked, tilting her head.

A closed look settled over his features as he studied her. "For the Joining itself. I'll explain more once you've returned."

A strange, strangled squeak came from the rogue hiding behind Ser Jory and Alistair fought to hold back something he suspected might turn out to be a girlish giggle.

"And the second task?" Rose asked.

"We had an outpost in the Wilds once and it has recently come to our attention that several important scrolls were left behind. They were magically sealed for their protection," Duncan answered, his eyes flicking to Rose and then settling on Alistair. "Alistair, I want you to retrieve these scrolls if you can."

Rina tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said, "Find the archive and three vials of blood. Understood. Let's go." She set off at an abrupt trot towards the Korcari Wilds, never once looking back to see if her companions were following after her.


	5. Chapter 5

As it turned out, they worked surprisingly well together. Rose never would have guessed it. There were so many reasons for them to fear or distrust one another, but from the wolves to the endless groups of darkspawn they cut down, they stood strong. Their talents were at least balanced- two rogues, a mage, and two warriors. Alistair and Jory would rush in, covered by Daveth's arrows. Rina would strike from the side, meshing blades and magic. And Rose came from the back, almost one with the few shadows the Wilds provided, as silent as a snake sliding through grass. Their progress was quick.

As Rina was collecting the final vial of blood from the darkspawn corpses, she shuddered and looked up. Her eyes unfocused even as she looked deeper into the Wilds past the old, stone ruins that stood over them. "There's something down there," she said. "A mage, I think."

"A mage?" Rose said sharply. She turned to Alistair. "Darkspawn have mages?"

"Yes. I hoped we wouldn't come across any of them."

His words unnerved her. Mage humans and elves were bad enough. She'd seen firsthand what they could do. A darkspawn? It seemed that the Chantry had directed it's hatred at the wrong targets. Surely a darkspawn with magic would be considered the greater threat.

Rina tucked the vial away and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her blade, rising fluidly even as her gaze stayed locked ahead of them. "Right, well. Leave the mage to me and take care of the others."

Rose nodded silently, trying to ignore the foreboding that had creeped up on her. They advanced carefully, Jory looking especially nervous. They were approaching a large, crumbling archway when electricity crackled around them and exploded beneath their feet, tossing them away from the structure.

Rose coughed on the smoke rising around her. The damp swamp grass had absorbed most of the fire. She struggled to her feet, weapons in hand. She yanked Daveth to his feet, ignoring how he cringed. He suddenly noticed his armor was burning, and ran to the water's edge to extinguish it.

With an ice spell burning her fingers and her armor on fire, Rina rolled to her feet and took off running, still intent on her prey. Her lithe body wound a quick path around the darkspawn that tried to lurch into her way and engage her, but it was the Emissary she sought. She didn't even seem to hear the sound of Jory calling for her to stop as he clashed with the darkspawn that she evaded.

Rose sighed, eyes narrowing to slits as she watched the rogue darkspawn close behind her double. She ran forward, evading the carelessly laid traps just as easily. An arrow narrowly missed her arm; she rolled to the left, right into a grinning genlock. Bile rose in her throat when the rot-smell hit her, oily and cloying. She struck the darkspawn in the thigh, taking an axe to her side for the effort.

She kicked it, and the monster fell back with an ear-piercing squeal. Rose checked her wound. The armor had saved her. With a relieved sigh, she sprang up, ignoring the sharp ache. Rina was facing the emissary, alone. She had to hurry.

The Emissary leered at Rina as she got closer and then turned tail and ran for a clearing off the main path of the wilds. There was never a moment of hesitation as she followed it, her sword already crackling with the lightning of her spell. Rose was close behind, ignoring the shouts of the humans behind her. Their prey stopped suddenly and turned, it's roughly hewn staff raised above it's head. Rose pulled a smaller dagger from her belt and threw it, aiming for the exposed blade sliced through the air to land solidly in the creature's barrier, exploding into a cloud of ash. Then Rina was moving again, closing and circling, spells lighting her hands and blades.

Rose swallowed the feral growl that rumbled in her throat. They had managed to leave most of the darkspawn behind them, but a few had taken notice of the elves' combined attack. With a glance at Rina, she went to the left, hoping that the mage could distract it long enough for her to get a clear shot. It couldn't hold it's barrier forever, especially with Rina throwing spells around.

With her whole attention focused on breaking the shield, Rina never heard or noticed the darkspawn that appeared behind her from the shadows. He sank his blades into her shoulder and sliced into her hip. A strangled scream escaped her as the blades were stripped out of her skin. She spun and beheaded the grinning genlock with the sword as she flicked the dagger towards Rose. The gurgle behind her said that the mage had saved Rose's life.

The Emissary cackled at Rina's distraction and hit her with a crushing prison spell, cutting off her scream as she was lifted off her feet. Back arched, magic crackling around her, she hung there like a limp doll. Three others had broken from the main group, seeing Rina incapacitated. Rose was forced to leave Rina trapped for a few seconds as she dispatched the first hurlock that approached. Others were now swarming the clearing; it was impossible to see Alistair or the other recruits now.

She began to panic. There were at least a dozen breathing and moving, far more than Alistair said would be out here. She ducked and rolled, very nearly losing her head to a genlock's sword. She sunk her daggers into another of the creatures, considering her options. There were far less than she liked.

The next few minutes were a blur as Rose was engaged in a deadly dance, avoiding fatality more times than she could count. Thankfully, the Emissary had all of it's energy focused on Rina. Jory, Daveth and Alistair were still nowhere to be seen. Rose felt sick with worry. At this rate, she'd be dead soon, and her fellow recruits would follow.

There was no choice, yet her hands still trembled as she abandoned her blades, moving back from her current opponent. Rose glanced at Rina one last time, hoping that the darkspawn would free her. Several precious seconds ticked by, and her prayers were unanswered. Time seemed to slow as she reached inward, grasping at the threads of mana she had ignored for almost two years. Her fingertips twitched, matching the grin she gave the things surrounding her before shards of ice burst from the mud below.

She gave them no time to recover. Those who survived were knocked back by gale-force winds and the bite of sleet. Then she gave her attention the the Emissary. Lightning danced between her fingers, ripping at the barrier it held. Her legs nearly gave out on her. She tried to remember if she had any lyrium in her pouches- probably not. Rose had sworn never to touch her magic again as long as her Master drew breath.

There was a strange crackling sound just before the barrier fell. Rina hit the ground. The emissary gave Rose his full attention just as her magic failed, leaving her with shaking legs and a spinning head.

Rina gathered her feet under her and launched herself at the darkspawn mage. She caught it in a parody of a hug and let the lightning flow from her fingers. When it shrieked, the sound was inhuman and made the elven mage recoil, but she held on until it was a roasted corpse. Then, she released it and blinked, looking around at the silent battlefield and the wild eyed Warden and other recruits staring at her.

Rose glanced at her comrades, somewhere between laughing and crying. She settled with giving Rina a shaky but genuine smile before she fell to her knees. Her stomach churned violently and she clamped her lips shut. She would _not_ give into fear. She would _not_ think about the miles between here and Tevinter- a number that seemed to shrink substantially in that moment.

"_There's a price for everything, my dear. You will never live a day without depending on my gift- and you will never be able to abandon it. Mark my words." _

Distantly, she heard Rina unshoulder her pack and set it down. "Last time I go without these," she muttered.

Rose was pulled from her dark thoughts when a small bundle landed by her leg with a muted _clink_. She stared at it for a moment, frozen between the past and present. "Come on, patch yourselves up. We're likely to run into more darkspawn along the way," Rina said sharply. "Use two health potions and change out your armor if you need to. I've extra boots, gloves, and helmets. The chainmail is mine."

Slowly, she took the cloth in fingers still frosted with ice and unwrapped the bundle. Rose inhaled sharply and shot Rina a look. The other elf was too busy exchanging armor to notice. What had Rina seen? Was this a mistake? Regardless, she quickly swallowed the potion, concealing the cool blue liquid with her hands. Energy returned to her, and she also swallowed one of the two health potions before examining her own state. The splint mail she'd bought from the quartermaster (after making it very clear to him how servants _should_ be treated) had fared better than Ser Jory's.

"How far to the Warden outpost?" She asked. Alistair didn't reply right away. He was staring at the melting ice with a strange look on his face that Rose couldn't quite identify. She repeated herself a bit louder.

Rina was helping Jory peel off the armor that had managed to fuse with his arm. He flinched as a particularly raw piece of flesh peeled away with the last of the armor and she tossed it aside, slapping a couple of elfroot leaves against the oozing wound before he could pass out at the sight of it. "That was the worst of it," she said, examining the rest of the armor he had taken off. "I've no extra leathers, but this should do. You'll need to favor that arm, but I don't think there are any more Emissaries near us."

"Let's just get out of here as fast as we can." Daveth said uneasily. "Another group like that and we might not make it back to camp." Rose noticed with grudging respect that he and Alistair had taken the least amount of damage. The weasel could fight, she'd give him that.

Alistair got to his feet, frowning for a moment as he examined a scorch mark on his shield. Shrugging, he walked over to Rose and offered her his hand. "Think you can make it?" He teased.

She hesitated just long enough for it to be awkward before she let him help her. She'd be a teamplayer for survival's sake, but that didn't mean she'd let this human treat her like she was weaker than him. "I didn't see you over here with the bulk of the ambush." she pointed out.

Jory shot a hard look at Rina who was digging by a log. "Well, we certainly had our own share of darkspawn to deal with even after that pack broke off to follow Rina."

Pulling several jewels from a hidden, buried box, Rina tucked them and the other items away before she glanced idly at the knight. "It certainly worked out, didn't it?"

Daveth glanced around the clearing. "I had no idea a darkspawn mage could be that powerful," he mused. "That couldn't have been all him, right?"

Rose sheathed her daggers with a bit more force than was necessary, resisting the urge to bury one of them in the rogue's eye. "I don't think anyone here can claim to be an expert just yet." She snapped. She glanced behind her at the others. "Well? Coming?"

The Wilds, they called it. Leagues of swampland, infested with wolves, ghosts, the Chaisnd tribes... And, of course, the Witches. It was amusing to watch the fools who ventured here, white-faced and nervous as rabbits. It was even more amusing when the darkspawn came, slaying these foolish men quickly and without mercy. Morrigan felt no kinship with the others of her kind, and made no move to help them. It was only when they tried to take the women that she intervened, saving them from a death that she had no desire to contemplate.

But all things lose their charm in time, and after weeks of her Wilds being infested with darkspawn and soldiers she was eager to see them leave. They would be gone soon enough, Flemeth had said, but when she had asked if she meant the darkspawn or the men, her mother only laughed. She continued her patrols, using the subtle tricks taught to her to keep all manner of creatures from their humble hut. Morrigan was just wondering how angry Flemeth would be if she played a few harmless pranks when the wind from the east picked up, practically reeking of magic and blood.

Blood was nothing unusual, here. Blood was the result of war, or a hunt, or a number of other things that were, as a rule, unpleasant and that did not require her attention. It was the magic that drew her curiosity. She began to run, and before she had gone five strides her paws were beating on the cold ground, the wind combing through her dark fur. The Wilds were laid bare to her in this form, every scent telling her more than sight or sound ever could. It was the scent that she missed in her clumsy human form, but nothing could compare to her magic.

Morrigan found the corpses first. She stepped over them delicately, careful to avoid the thick, pasty blood that was already seeping into the earth, killing it. She smelled sulphur, and the sight of the Emissary left her disappointed. It was nothing new. Then she slipped on the ice. Morrigan searched the area, intrigued. There was no way that this came from one darkspawn mage. It was far too spread out, and most emissaries had a small amount of mana to begin with. Perhaps today was going to be interesting after all.

"You're lost, aren't you?"

North. She almost flew, following the paths invisible to human eyes. Her ears strained to pick out the response.

"What? No! I just got... side-tracked."

The fluttering of wings drowned out the response. She was being careless, startling the creatures. The humans didn't seem to notice. Morrigan could smell them now, sweat and blood and metal.

"-is side-tracked. Even two miles is side-tracked." Morrigan almost ran into the speaker, an elven woman with daggers strapped to her back and the smell of ozone on her fingers. "Four miles? You're lost."

"And you've been keeping track?" another red headed elf sighed. "And here I was thinking you might be just a little bit smarter than the average knight. Come on, I know how to track the way back."

"He-ey!" The man- the stupid one- was glaring at the sisters- for what else could they be?- with his arms crossed. Morrigan's ears pricked up when she saw the emblem on his armor- a griffon. Could he be-? "I'm smart!" he objected.

The first elf-sister shook her head. "All evidence to the contrary."

"Can we just get moving?" Another man asked- much better looking, surely, but thin.

"I'm really not lost." the Warden sighed. "I'm sure that we just- wait. It's over there!"

"That's what you said last time," the second elven female sighed.

Morrigan huffed softly. If they were Wardens, they sought the ruined tower. She left them, moving south. Once she was a safe distance away, she howled as loudly as she could. Then she ran east, stopped, and howled again. Perhaps, with a bit of help, she could lead them there before they got themselves hopelessly lost.

Three hours of fruitless wandering had finally borne fruit when they had stumbled across the skeleton of the old tower despite Alistair's claims of knowing where it was the entire time. "You got us lost," Rina replied calmly to his claims of having led them to the correct location. After a pause she added, "Again."

"I- well-" He glanced at her and sighed. "Well, _maybe_ I missed a left turn somewhere."

"Or six."

"I'd call it six lefts and three rights. Not counting the backtracking," Rina snorted.

The Warden glared at her, which was a bit difficult with him between the elves. "Right, right. Pick on the escort. I see how it is."

"Escort being a bit of a stretch," Rina retorted. "More like a bodyguard turned babysitter."

Jory turned a snort into a cough and returned the grin that she shot him. Suddenly, becoming a Warden didn't quite seem so burdensome if these were the comrades he would serve with.

"I was trying not to think of it like that."

"You could have ended up with worse," Daveth comforted him from the back of the group. "Imagine having to escort one o' them Dalish. I hear they don't mix with humans well."

Rose's voice was decidedly unpleasant. "The Dalish are not uncivilized." She replied. "In fact, I'd say even the worst of them have more honor than _shem_ like you."

Jory had heard only the beginning of the disagreement and decided he'd had enough when Rina slipped ahead of the pair and peered at a particularly broken box or crate. His interest must have been noticeable, because she smiled grimly at him. "There are traces of magic on this thing. The documents may have been kept here...at one point in time."

"Well, that was a waste of time. Can we go now?" Rose muttered.

Alistair joined Rina. "That's... not right. The magic should have held. Only a Warden can break that seal- unless very powerful magic was used."

The mage fixed him with an amused sidelong look. "Magic doesn't last forever. Spells need to be renewed or strengthened from time to time to remain potent unless they're anchored, which it looks like this chest wasn't."

"I do know something about magic, you know." He replied, sounding irritated. "And I also know that this chest contained important documents- treaties that obligate several groups to help the Wardens during a Blight. They would have taken all precautions to keep them safe."

Jory blinked at the sharp look of suspicion that she threw their guide, but neither made a comment as she rose from the chest. "Either way, they aren't here. Without knowing the Wilds or having some idea of who took them, we're wasting time here," she said, glancing at Rose and grinning.

"Well, well. What have we here?" The group turned as one, hands reaching for weapons, prepared for almost anything. The woman looking down at them was young, clad (if only just) in strange clothing. The staff strapped to her back was what caught Jory's attention. She descended down the crumbling stairs slowly, never taking her eyes off of Rina. "Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking at a corpse long-since cleaned? Or merely an intruder, come into these Darkspawn filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey?" She stopped a few yards away, arms crossed. "What say you? Scavenger or intruder?" she demanded.

"Perhaps both," Rina answered. Jory could only stare at her spreading grin and wonder if perhaps she was a little off.

The woman looked at each of them in turn, her amber eyes glittering. "Perhaps you are," she conceded. "You are certainly a... unique group, 'tis certain."

"Almost as unique as you." Rose commented.

At that, she smiled. "Yes, I suppose you're right. Though there are others, I'm told."

"Careful, she looks Chaisnd." Alistair muttered. His stance had not relaxed. "That means there may be others nearby."

"Oh, you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?" the woman mocked.

"Yes. Swooping is bad."

Rina blinked at the comment and glanced at him, then looked back to the other mage. "Who are you?"

"Tell me your names and I shall tell you mine." she returned.

"I am Rina," she answered.

There was an awkward silence as the others elected not to answer. "Come now, surely a simple name can do no harm?"

"Then tell us yours." Rose shot back.

The woman's eyebrow rose. "'Tis_ you_ who are intruding, is it not?"

"...My name is Rose. That's Alistair, Jory and Daveth. Now tell us who _you_ are."

"You may call me Morrigan, if you wish."

"As interesting as this is, unless you know what it is we're looking for, there are other places we need to be," Rina said, blunt enough that Jory raised an eyebrow.

Morrigan seemed unfazed. "Your treaties are no longer here, yes? I happen to know what became of them."

Jory almost spoke then, but help his tongue under the cold smile that Rina flashed the Witch. "If you know something, then say it. Otherwise, we're leaving this game here with you."

"Someone came for them, to protect them." Morrigan's eyes narrowed. "And so you would do well to listen, and show some respect."

"Any respect I would show would be mocking, so I'll settle for being truthful," Rina shot back. "Who was it that took the scrolls?"

Jory almost didn't hear her for the whispered argument that he was having with Daveth over Witches and cooking pots, but he did and he blinked between the two of them. Didn't all mages get along on principal? After all, weren't they all cut from the same cloth? Instability and rough edges seemed to be Rina's dominating features, but she was the only mage that he had ever been in the company of for more than an hour.

Alistair raised his arm, his signal clear. He addressed the woman himself. "Those documents are Gray Warden property, and I suggest you return them."

"I will not, for 'twas not I who removed them."

"I'll remove your head if you don't answer her question." Rose snapped, drawing her dagger.

Morrigan examined the city elf closely. "Ah, I see. While I have not my mother's gift of intuition, I can see blood on your hands. Tell me, are you used to getting what you want, with eyes as cold as yours?"

"It's hard to argue with a blade through your throat."

Her lips twitched. "You wish to know? I will tell you, without the need for blood. 'Twas my mother who took them, years ago."

"I'd ask why, but I don't really care. Will you take us to her?" Rina asked.

"Finally, a sensible request. Follow me, then, if it pleases you."

The path she led them on was invisible to the eye. Morrigan wove through trees and around patches of moss and mud with practiced steps. There were no darkspawn about, and hardly any wildlife. She offered no further words after their conversation.

There was a moment when Rina couldn't see the other mage, when the forest seemed to swallow her whole and then they stood in the middle of a clearing that hummed with protective magic. It was enough to set her skin to crawling and make her hair frizz. "I think we're here," she said, shivering and glancing around.

"Hmm. And 'twould seem my mother is not."

"Well, that's convenient." Daveth's mutter was ignored.

Morrigan sighed. "I assume you are in a hurry, correct? We may have no choice but to seek her out."

Magic sizzled through her like a warning, making itself visible for one vibrant moment. Rina looked around, her wrist flicking to bring a hidden dagger into her hand. "Something else is here," she said, eyes darting about.

"No doubt." Morrigan chuckled. "The power for protection does not come from nothing. Flemeth employs others to keep her secrets secure."

There was another shiver of magic and Rina's stomach curled. It wasn't the same, not by a long shot, but it was similar. She let her power shiver in response, projecting it at the same frequency as the other. A shape moved, a log that wasn't a log, and an emerald eye blinked sleepily at her. The green scales rippled in the sunlight as it lifted its head.

It surveyed her critically and growled low in its throat. A warning or a greeting she couldn't tell, but she laughed all the same and that sound held an edge of hysteria. "Hello, Wild One," she said softly and the dagger vanished from her hand as she approached the dragon. "Not all of you were killed beside your sentient brethren. I am glad." Kneeling at its side, she slid a hand down it's head and scratched its eye ridge. The dragon hummed it's pleasure and settled back down to sleep.

Light footsteps approached. "Not only you, I think. There is another who understands, almost better than you. What an interesting group, to stumble upon my Morrigan."

Rina's eyes slid to the old witch, but she didn't move to rise. "We were led to believe that you have the Grey Warden treaties of old," she said.

"A Warden? My, but that _must_ be enlightening for them, assuming you carry any knowledge of the Dragon's history. As it is, I am more than willing to help you, since Carada is so fond of you."

There was a tight coiling of muscles in her back as she turned slightly to face the older woman. Green eyes flashed with anger and the dragon stirred beneath her hands. Willing herself to relax as she stroked Carada's neck, she said, "Of course I hold their history. It would be appreciated if we were able to leave _with_ the treaties."

Morrigan's mother reached into the pouch at her side, pulling out a sheaf of aged parchment. "Fascinating reading. I doubt anyone even remembers some of these cultures."

"As far as I know, only the elves, mages and dwarves are under treaty." Alistair shifted uncomfortably, looking from Morrigan to Flemeth uneasily.

The tone of the woman's voice made her hold out her hand for the treaties, the other hand still on the dragon. "There are likely treaties between more than just those three and the Warden,"she said absently and stroked Carada's scales one last time before she stepped away to take the offered papers. The dragon stirred slightly and cracked an eyelid, but otherwise stayed in place. On an impulse, she flicked through some of them.

There were, in fact, seven of them. "The Lanshae will be reluctant to offer assistance even if they had the numbers to do so."

"Lanshae?" Jory asked, leaning over her shoulder.

"Blood sucking creatures with a strong aversion to the sun," Rina supplied succinctly. "Very strong, good reflexes, but mostly extinct these days."

"Mostly," the elder woman agreed. Her amused grin might have suggested otherwise.

Rina's eyes flicked to the wizened Witch and glittered with something that was almost satisfaction. "The faction that was most openly dangerous, at any rate," she said.

"Right," Jory said, taking a nervous step back.

She hummed absently at him, a noncommittal sound that meant she hadn't registered his tone. Flipping that treaty to the side, her breath caught in her throat as her eyes glided over the page and traced the neat scrawling words that pledged the support in times of need to "..._eradicate the creatures that threaten all of us. To this end, we will provide the strength of arms such that we do not endanger the overall numbers of our race. In such a case that..._"

Swallowing against the bile and guilt that rose to her throat, she said, "There will be no commitment from the Dragons. Their numbers are too few and scattered." Memories of long dead friends, of their dried blood, and the broken bodies of comrades crowded before her eyes and she had to roll the treaty up and hide Jeremy's tidy scrawl from herself. She almost swayed on the spot as she tried to repress the images of a time when he had not been a banished prince, an heir in his own right and not the last resort.

"Thank you for the assistance. We'll be going now," she said finally.

"I will be positively distraught at your leaving," Morrigan muttered dryly.

"Don't be ridiculous girl, these are your guests."

"What?" One look at Flemeth and Morrigan's face fell. "Oh. Right." she sighed heavily. "Very well, then, I will show you out of the woods. Follow me."


End file.
